Fall into Me
by Jordan Trevor
Summary: When he falls, she is there to catch him.
1. Chapter 1

**Fall into Me**

**Author's Note: **I'm going out on a limb by posting a story that isn't all the way completed yet, so I won't be able to post a chapter every day. I'm hoping feedback will give me the motivation to finish the story. For those who read it, I appreciate your patience, understanding, and support.

**Disclaimer:** The _Voyager _crew doesn't belong to me.

Her two weeks on Vulcan had been interesting. The conference had been informative, her visit with Tuvok and T'Pel had been relaxing, and sightseeing, as always, had been breathtaking. But two weeks on Vulcan had also been long and hot. Very hot. Hotter than she ever remembered. Tuvok had assured her that there had been no discernible climatological changes on the planet during the last twenty years so perhaps her memory of her previous visits as it pertained to temperature was faulty. Kathryn had readily laughed and agreed with his assessment. As she got older, she had no doubt that her memory was faulty. That and she was far more sensitive to heat and cold than she used to be. Years of living on a climate controlled starship was to blame. There were days when she found San Francisco's fog and drizzle to be almost unbearable, but, after two weeks on Vulcan, she welcomed the cold blast of air as she exited the transporter station near her townhouse. She could have transported directly to her front door, but she looked forward to the short walk.

Even at this late hour, San Francisco was still awake. People strolled along the sidewalks, ducking in and out of the small, intimate restaurants and clubs that lined the streets. The smooth sounds of music wafted out onto the night air every time a door was opened: mostly jazz and blues, but Kathryn heard some classical strands, twangs of country, and even the dissonance of Klingon chords. On many an evening, she would open the windows of her townhouse just to enjoy the ambiance of her neighborhood. She liked it here, and it was slowly, but surely, becoming home.

A few minutes later, she was climbing the brick steps, letting herself into the front door, and dropping her suitcases in the entry hall. Again, she thought fleetingly of adopting a dog - someone to be there waiting for her when she came home. How she'd loved having Molly all those years ago - all red fur, long legs, and lolling tongue. Kathryn smiled at the memory. She was with Mark and his family now. It had been good to see her, but she wouldn't dream of taking her back. Visiting rights had been fully extended and happily accepted. And since her trip to Vulcan had been her fifth conference in the four months since _Voyager_ had returned, she realized, yet again, that having a dog was probably not the best idea at the moment. Soon, maybe, things would slow down. And to think she'd been hesitant to accept a position at Starfleet Headquarters because she was worried about being tied to a desk! She hadn't seen her desk in ages.

With an exhausted sigh, she stared down at the two suitcases at her feet. She'd unpack them in the morning, she decided as she moved into the living room. It was late, almost midnight, and the only thing she wanted to do was check her messages and go to bed. Quickly, she activated her desk computer and scanned the list of incoming calls. Most of them she'd already dealt with on the transport from Vulcan, but she did notice a new one from B'Elanna. It was text only: "Call me when you arrive. Immediately. Urgent."

Something had happened. B'Elanna Torres, who had faced countless engineering emergencies, rarely used words like "urgent" even in dire situations. Disregarding the time, Kathryn pressed the return comm link and was relieved when B'Elanna's image instantly filled the screen. Even though it was late, she could tell that her former chief engineer was wide awake.

"Thank Kahless you're home!" the younger woman breathed.

"B'Elanna? What is it?" _The baby_… "Miral?"

"No." She shook her head. "Miral's fine; Tom's fine. It's…" She hesitated, letting go of a shaky breath. She'd been waiting almost two days to tell her, and now she couldn't say the words - didn't want to say them - saying them made it more real than she wanted it to be.

But Kathryn saw it in her eyes, and she knew. "Chakotay…"

B'Elanna nodded quickly, and found her voice. "He's had a stroke."

"Oh, no…" Kathryn felt a fist clutch her heart and for a moment she couldn't breathe, and then she drew in a ragged breath and sat down heavily in the desk chair. "When? How bad?"

"Yesterday afternoon. Tom found him in his office at the Academy." B'Elanna made herself continue as if she were delivering a report to the captain - all facts, little emotion. "A blood vessel burst on the right side of his brain. His left side is partially paralyzed and his speech has been affected - there could be some memory loss… The doctors think that he'll make a full recovery… but it's probably going to take a long time and a lot of therapy. He's been in and out of consciousness since it happened, but… whenever he's awake, he's… he's asking for you, Kathryn."

The tears gathering in her eyes threatened to spill over onto her cheeks at B'Elanna's words – he was asking for her.

"I knew you were on Vulcan. And I knew you were scheduled to be home today. I would have contacted you earlier, but there was no way you could have gotten here any faster."

"No, you did the right thing," Kathryn assured her. "He's at Starfleet Medical?"

B'Elanna nodded. "Tom's with him. He's been staying at night. We didn't want him to be alone. Harry's been there. Seven's still on Bajor. I haven't contacted her yet." She hesitated. "They're still friends, you know, but… They haven't been as close these past few months."

"I know." She could tell that B'Elanna was uncomfortable talking about Chakotay's personal affairs - not sure how much her former captain knew about her former first officer's love life. She knew enough – more than enough – and she hurried to put her at ease. "Chakotay and I have talked about it. Seven will want to know, but we can wait. There's nothing she can do from Bajor right now besides worry."

B'Elanna's eyes widened. "Seven? Worry?" It wasn't an emotion she'd ever seen in the former Borg.

Kathryn smiled softly. "Seven worries about things. Believe me. And she cares deeply for her friends and crewmates."

Instantly, B'Elanna regretted her reaction. "I know she does. I didn't mean anything… I just…"

"It's all right." Kathryn took in a deep breath. "What room is he in? I'll go relieve Tom."

"Kathryn, you just got back from a long trip. You don't need to go tonight. Tom's fine."

"How long has Chakotay been asking for me?"

B'Elanna was about to answer when she realized that Kathryn's question wasn't meant to have an answer. The question was the answer.

"Room 825. I've told the nurses to be expecting you. You shouldn't have any trouble getting in." Kathryn watched the younger woman blink back her own tears. "I'm glad you're home, Captain. I'll see you in the morning."

~vVv~

B'Elanna terminated the comm link and stepped away from the computer console, watching the screen fade to grey and then black.

It would be all right now. Kathryn was home. And she knew. And it would be all right.

It had to be.

Reaching up, she rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her hand. She hated to cry. She always had. Hated how vulnerable it made her feel. Open, unguarded…

If Tom were home, maybe she'd give in to the tears, let him hold her.

Maybe.

She walked through the darkened room to the window on the opposite side. When she'd come home earlier in the evening, she'd put Miral to bed, and she hadn't bothered to turn on any lights. Now the only illumination came from the streetlights that blinked up from the park below.

She stared at them, trying to make sense of the past thirty-six hours. But she couldn't. How could you find sense in something so utterly senseless? Something so unreal?

Something so… unacceptable.

And that was it… She couldn't accept that something like this could happen to him. Not Chakotay – not the stubborn, bull-headed Maquis turned First Officer who had always been there for her – strong, dependable…

Her heart had ached when they'd finally let her in to see him. He looked so… small and lost… so weak.

_His eyes were open, but she really wasn't sure how aware he was of his surroundings. Wasn't sure if he knew that she was there. She leaned over and stroked his cheek, whispered in his ear._

_The only words that made sense._

"_Hold on, Chakotay. Just hold on. Kathryn's on her way. She'll be here soon."_

~vVv~

Kathryn contacted Starfleet Headquarters and requested a site to site transport to Starfleet Medical. Moments later she found herself in the hospital's lobby. She took the lift to the 8th floor. It was after midnight now, the halls were dimly lit, and the only people present were the few nurses at the central desk area.

"Excuse me, I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway. I'd like to see Commander Chakotay."

She was expecting resistance - it was the middle of the night, long past regular visiting hours - but the young nurse seated before her looked up with a relieved expression on her face. "You're here. We've been waiting for you." And she smiled as she stood up and walked around the counter. "I'm Melissa Hartnell, one of the night nurses. The commander's room is right down here. Lieutenant Commander Paris is with him."

She led the captain to a room halfway down the hall and stopped. "I don't know how much you've been told about Commander Chakotay's condition."

Kathryn shook her head. "Not much. I know he's had a stroke and his left side is partially paralyzed."

"That's right. The paralysis has affected his facial muscles as well. It's difficult to understand him at times. Although, he does seem to pronounce your name rather clearly. And somewhat insistently," she added with a slight hint of humor.

Kathryn smiled. "He can be quite commanding."

Melissa returned her smile and continued. "I want you to be prepared when he wakes. He's experiencing emotional lability, which means his emotions are very changeable. He's frustrated, frightened, angry. Don't be alarmed if you notice tears. He's not in any physical pain, but he's very vulnerable and fragile right now. As he stabilizes over the next few days, his emotions will stabilize as well." She reached out and squeezed Kathryn's arm. "I think it's going to help a lot now that you're here."

"Thank you," Kathryn responded, appreciating her kind words and encouragement.

When Melissa activated the door, the first thing Kathryn saw was her former pilot asleep in a chair, head tilted back at an uncomfortable angle and long legs hanging over the sides. She couldn't help but smile. No matter how old he was, and despite his talent at the helm of a starship, he would always be the gangly, awkward teenager that used to stare back at her from the holoimages on his father's ready room desk.

"Please, don't wake him," she whispered as Melissa started to step closer to Tom. "I'll just sit with them both."

Melissa nodded. "There's a call button beside the bed." She indicated the button as she leaned over to check on Chakotay. Kathryn watched as she adjusted the IV that led into his left arm, and then she took a small cloth from the bedside table and wiped the perspiration from his forehead. "We're hoping he'll sleep through the night, but if he doesn't, or if you need anything at all, don't hesitate to call us."

"Thank you. I'll be fine."

Melissa left quietly, but still the rustle of movement and soft voices caused Tom to stir and open his eyes. He blinked over at her. "Captain?"

"Kathryn," she whispered instinctively. She'd been trying for the past four months to break them of the habit.

Tom grinned in the half light of the room. "Yes, ma'am!"

And Kathryn smiled. That was a Tom Paris habit that she knew she could never break. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, pressing her hand to his chest in a half hug. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Tom took a deep breath and rolled his shoulders. "That's all right. I didn't mean to doze off." He looked over at the bed. "He's getting some good sleep tonight. I guess my body wanted some, too."

Kathryn stepped closer to the bed and gazed down at Chakotay. He lay very still, his head turned on the pillow. Even in sleep, the right side of his face seemed to be creased with tension, while the left was slack and smooth. Both eyes were closed, but the left one seemed to droop and the edge of his mouth turned down. She could see now that it wasn't just beads of perspiration on his forehead, but there appeared to be tears on his cheeks and saliva drooled from the left corner of his mouth. "Oh, Chakotay," she murmured.

Instantly, Tom was at her side, wrapping his arm around her. "He's gonna be all right. It's good that he's sleeping. He's been restless. In and out of consciousness… Calling out… Wrestling with some nightmares…"

Kathryn bit her lower lip, trying to keep the tears in her eyes from spilling over onto her cheeks. "B'Elanna says he's been asking for me."

"Every other breath when he's awake. But that's nothing new. You both do that."

She turned and looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"On _Voyager_. Whichever one of you was in sickbay, regaining consciousness or coming out of anesthesia, you'd call out for each other. The Doctor and I knew to expect it."

She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow. "And you never told me this?"

"Hey, if your subconscious knows something that the conscious part of your brains won't admit, who am I to tell either of you anything."

"Which would be?" she challenged.

And Tom didn't look away. Instead, he stared straight into her eyes and met that challenge head on. "He's in love with you, Kathryn. And you're in love with him. It's about time you told each other."

She was a bit taken aback by his blunt honesty, but only a bit. After all, this was Tom Paris.

"Remember who you're talking to," she warned softly, only half teasing.

He shook his head and held his ground. "Uh-uh. You can't have it both ways. If you're going to be Kathryn, then I'm going to be your friend and not your subordinate. I'm going to tell you what you need to hear. You can't be the Captain only when it suits you."

"It suited me just fine twenty minutes ago when I needed a site to site transport at midnight. _Captain_ Janeway still carries some weight in certain circles."

"True. Just don't bring her in here, and don't hide behind her. That's not who he needs."

Tears instantly pricked her eyes again, and she looked away, conceding to his words. Tom was right. She'd been hiding behind rank and privilege for too long now. Chakotay needed Kathryn, not his former captain.

"All right." She swallowed around the lump in her throat, and turned back to him, meeting his gaze. "Kathryn's here."

Tom smiled. "Good. Now why don't you take a seat?" He indicated the chair he'd been using.

"Only if you'll go home to B'Elanna and Miral. I know you've been here both nights."

He shook his head as he picked up the cloth from the bedside table. Reaching over, he gently wiped Chakotay's cheeks and chin. "I'm needed right here. Thanks to you and your vote of confidence seven and a half years ago, I've turned out to be a hell of a medic. The nurses would be lost without me."

Kathryn sank down into the empty chair, suddenly feeling very tired after her long trip from Vulcan. As usual, in his own way, Tom Paris had things under control. "I think Chakotay would be lost without you."

Tom looked back over his shoulder as he continued to run the cloth over Chakotay's face in soothing strokes. "I take care of the lives that belong to me, and I've had Chakotay's life for a long time now."

~vVv~


	2. Chapter 2

She wasn't sure when she fell asleep. Wasn't sure when watching Tom take care of Chakotay became watching Tom take care of her - the gentle movements and shadows as he pulled off her coat, pushed a pillow behind her head, draped a blanket over her lap. Taking care of each other. That's what they did. What they'd all done for seven years in the Delta Quadrant.

It was definitely coffee that pulled her from the depths of a sound sleep. Coffee and voices, but mainly the coffee.

"Move it closer to her. She'll open her eyes." The voice held both laughter and knowledge, for the aroma of fresh coffee wafted closer and she did indeed open her eyes. "Good morning." And although the voice came from behind her, it was his gaze that she saw first - dark brown eyes staring at her from under half-closed lids, sleepy and soft, but still she saw that familiar playfulness, that glint that always managed to entertain and reassure her even in the most serious of situations.

"For you, Kathryn." Tom held the cup in front of her and she wrapped her hands around it, inhaling deeply, watching Chakotay enjoying her reaction. And that's what he was doing. She could tell. There was definitely a lopsided grin pulling at his lips.

Tom noticed their locked gazes. "He's been content to watch you sleep for the last half hour."

"Oh, Tom, you should have woken me up." She noticed B'Elanna sit down in the chair that had been pulled up next to hers. "When did you get here?"

"About a half hour ago."

"Yeah, right at the beginning," Tom continued with his earlier observance. "Watching people sleep. Not one of my favorite pastimes, but the big guy here is a man of few pleasures, so I'll give him this one."

Kathryn handed her cup to B'Elanna and went over to stand by the bed. Chakotay's eyes followed her, and then closed for a few moments as she touched her hand to his forehead, her fingers smoothing over the lines of his tattoo. She leaned down and kissed his cheek, whispered into his ear. "Hey, you." And she stayed there for a few moments, cheek to cheek, breathing him in, her hand slipping down to hold the back of his head, fingers feeling the familiar bristle of hair along his neck. When she straightened, his eyes were open again. She smiled softly. "I'm glad you're awake, but you look tired. Maybe I should watch you sleep for a while."

He swallowed convulsively, the muscles of his throat tightening as he struggled to talk. "Kath…" he breathed hoarsely, swallowing again, his tongue pushing against his lower lip. "K-Kath…ryn."

"Shh." She touched her fingers to his lips. "You don't have to talk. I know. You're going to be all right."

He moved his head. "Nuh…" he groaned, his right hand reaching up and grabbing hold of her hand. "No…" He pushed her hand away.

She noticed that saliva had drooled onto his chin, and without thinking, she gently wiped it away with her fingertips.

He pushed at her hand again, clearly uncomfortable with the intimacy of her gesture.

She bent closer to him, pressing another kiss to his cheek, another whisper in his ear. "I'm here, Chakotay."

That's all she knew to say, but it was enough. With a heavy sigh, he seemed to relax, the tension on the right side of his face easing slightly as he stopped the awkward shaking of his head and weak movement of his hand on hers. He allowed her to wrap her fingers around his right hand, and he held on to her.

Tom stepped over with the small cloth, and he gently reached in and used it to wipe at Chakotay's cheeks and chin. Reaching out with her other hand, Kathryn took the cloth from him and took over.

Again, Chakotay tried to resist, turning his head on the pillow. "No… K-Kathryn."

She shook her head, a slight smile lifting the corners of her lips. "I'm staying right here." And she sat down on the edge of his bed. "You can't get rid of me that easily." She rubbed the cloth over his cheeks and forehead, gentle stroking that softly eased him back to sleep.

Long minutes passed, and she was just as content watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath, his hand still held in her grasp, fingers laced together.

"Well, I think it's a tie." Tom's voice came from the chair behind her, and she looked over her shoulder. He was sitting next to B'Elanna now. "I'm not sure who the better sleeper is. I do know it's a very uneventful sport."

Kathryn reached back and slapped him on the knee. "Move. I'm going to sit there, drink my coffee, and indulge in my new favorite pastime."

B'Elanna shot an exasperated glance in Tom's direction. "Don't listen to him, Kathryn. You did exactly what needs to be done. He needs to sleep a little longer this morning. They want to start some therapy later today, and he's going to need all the rest he can get."

Kathryn eased her hand from Chakotay's fingers and was relieved when he continued sleeping. She moved back to the chair Tom had just vacated and gladly took her cup of coffee from B'Elanna. Thankfully, it was still warm.

"All right," Tom announced, "my mom has Miral." He pointed at B'Elanna. "You're here," he pointed at Kathryn, "and you're here, and I'm going home to take a shower and a nice long nap." He leaned over and kissed his wife. "Feel free to come home and watch me sleep whenever you want."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "Tempting offer, but I think I'll keep Kathryn company for a while."

"Your loss," Tom grinned, but then grew serious for a moment. "You'll keep me updated."

B'Elanna reached out and squeezed his hand. "I always do, Helmboy. Now go. I have some serious Chakotay watching to do."

Tom left and the two women sat in silence for a long time. Finally, when she took the last sip of her coffee, Kathryn looked over at B'Elanna. "That husband of yours gave me some very good advice last night."

B'Elanna raised her eyebrows. "My husband?!"

Kathryn smiled. "He's a very smart man, B'Elanna. I don't think I always give him enough credit."

B'Elanna reached over and placed a hand on her arm. "Oh, yes, you do. You always have. You give us more credit than any of us deserve. You have a unique ability to make us more than what we think we can be just because you believe in us." She sighed. "That's really deep for me this early in the morning, Kathryn. What exactly did my husband tell you?"

"He told me that I was in love with Chakotay, and that I needed to tell him."

B'Elanna gave a short, quick laugh. "That's Tom for you. Always stating the obvious."

Kathryn studied her friend's expression. "Has it always been that obvious?"

A look of disbelief crossed B'Elanna's face. "Kathryn, the whole crew knew how you and Chakotay felt about each other. It wasn't some big secret. Those of us who were closer to you knew that you were just good friends. Although we wished that you could have been more for each other, we understood the protocols that were involved. We knew you didn't want to jeopardize your command structure. But, according to some betting pools, over a third of the crew thought you were going at it like bunnies."

"Bunnies?"

"It was a long seven years!"

"Bunnies?!" Her voice grew louder.

"Shh, you'll wake up Peter Rabbit," B'Elanna grinned.

Kathryn rubbed a hand down over her face and sighed. She could only imagine the rumors that had spread through the ship. She hadn't been totally unaware of them even then. She had just made a conscious decision not to think about it.

She gazed over at the man sleeping on the bed before her. "I do love him," she whispered.

And she felt B'Elanna's hand close more firmly around her arm. "I know."

~vVv~

Tom stepped into the early morning sunshine and felt the tension in his shoulders start to recede, melting away as a cool breeze blew in from the bay and ruffled his hair.

It would be all right now. Kathryn was home. And she knew. And it would be all right.

It had to be.

Looking around, he decided to walk the six blocks to their apartment. He was tired, but the sky was high and blue and open, and after a long dark night, he needed the light, needed to feel it on his skin and in his eyes. He liked how it made him feel. Warm, protected…

He wished that B'Elanna were there, walking along beside him, holding his hand. But he knew she needed to be with Kathryn now.

Needed to be with Chakotay…

He made a left turn, and headed down toward the bay, could see a patch of water, blue and sparkling. The sun glinted off the waves, and he stopped and stared at the moving patterns of light. And remembered…

_It was a little after 1400 hours and they were going to have a late lunch together – what had become a typical Tuesday – pizza at a little Italian restaurant just off campus. He would swing by Chakotay's office to pick him up, usually having to cajole him away from his notes and research with the promise of a pitcher of beer. _

_The man simply worked too hard and too long – he needed to loosen up, take more time to enjoy the world outside the four walls of his office and the Academy. But Tom understood the fascination with this new position – was guilty of enjoying it himself. All those eager cadets looking to them for guidance and wisdom – and, in his case, piloting skills. It was a bit of a rush._

_And, of course, Chakotay loved his classes – Anthropology and Xeno-Paleontology – early humans and prehistoric creatures from across the galaxy – what not to love?!_

_Still, all work and no play made for a very dull commander. Sure, he'd mentioned Kathryn's name a few times recently, and Tom was beginning to think there might be a little more "play" going on than Chakotay admitted, but he was still far too mired in work. Maybe after lunch he could convince him to take the rest of the afternoon off – find a local pub with a table and spend the rest of the day shooting pool. It was worth a shot – maybe he could even get him to open up a little more about Kathryn._

_He winked fruitlessly at Chakotay's young assistant as he sauntered into the outer office. She was all of twenty-one, but despite his efforts had so far been immune to the Paris charm. She was even duller than her boss – the most serious young officer he'd ever encountered – even more straight-laced than a young Harry Kim. _

_Today, she barely lifted an eyebrow in response, too busy working on her computer, and simply nodded for him to go on into the inner office, which he did. A much younger Tom Paris would have hitched his hip on the side of her desk, blinked his baby blues at her, and convinced her to join them for lunch. But, despite what Chakotay and B'Elanna might believe, he'd matured._

_He stopped in the open doorway and looked around. Chakotay's office was a nice size – much larger than his office on Voyager – and much more "academic" – sofa and chairs next to a large window, a heavy oak desk flanked by another set of cushioned chairs, bookshelves lining the walls. He was surprised that his former first officer hadn't taken to wearing tweed jackets and smoking a pipe just to feel at home in his new environment. _

_He was also surprised that he wasn't seated behind the desk as he usually was, head bent studiously over a project. Tom started to back out and ask his assistant where he was when he heard it. A soft noise – a low moan._

_He rounded the desk and felt his heart slam into his ribs. Chakotay was crumpled on the floor, on his side, legs drawn close to his stomach. His head was bent at an awkward angle, face turned up. And Tom knew immediately that he'd had a stroke. The left side of his face was loose and drooping, while the right side was tense, contracted. His eyes were closed, his right hand flailing, reaching out. And he smelled the acrid scent of urine._

_He knelt down next to him, grabbing his hand with his fingers and holding on to him as his other hand hit his commbadge. _

"_This is Lieutenant Commander Tom Paris. I'm with Commander Chakotay. Lock on to our signals and transport us straight to Starfleet Medical Emergency. Now!"_

"_Acknowledged," a voice responded._

_And a moment later, he felt the tingling of a transporter beam. In that instance, Chakotay's eyes snapped open and Tom saw the terror in their brown depths._

The medical team had taken over, pushed him back. And he'd gone to contact B'Elanna, and Harry. Held his wife when she'd arrived, draped an arm around his friend's shoulder. Waited in the hospital corridor until they'd settled Chakotay in a room.

And then stayed with him.

Last night hadn't been as bad, but the night before had been rough, watching him drift in and out of consciousness, listening to him cry, his voice harsh and halting.

It was difficult seeing him like that. Chakotay – the former Maquis,_ Voyager's_ First Officer – the man who had grudgingly given Tom Paris the benefit of the doubt and found a friend in the process.

He was scared… and hurt… and reaching out…

And when the nightmares came, Tom had pulled him up into his arms, cradled him to his chest, and rocked him like a baby.

~vVv~


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading. I really appreciate the reviews.

At 8:30 a nurse brought him breakfast: oatmeal, apple sauce, and cranberry juice. This would be his first solid food since the stroke. Soon after they'd stabilized him, the nurses had run a nasogastric feeding tube through his nose, down the back of his throat, and into his stomach. "And you know how he feels about tubes," B'Elanna groaned as she recounted the procedure to Kathryn. He'd been frightened and disoriented, and he'd fought the nurses, and even Tom who had tried to lend a hand. "He landed a good one on Tom's face," she sighed. "Almost broke his cheek bone. They removed the tube last night." She'd glanced at his arm and the side of the bed. "One down, two to go." And Kathryn had nodded in agreement. In addition to the IV, she'd noticed the catheter tubing on the side of the bed. She was sure he hated that.

Now she watched as the nurse set the tray of food on the bed table. "I can stay and feed him if you'd like, but he might respond better to the two of you." She eyed both Kathryn and B'Elanna. "He may resist – eating can be stressful for stroke patients. You might have to be firm with him. He'll probably experience some difficulty swallowing, but just feed him small bites and give him time. Don't worry if he doesn't eat it all. I'm sure you'll get him to eat something."

Easier said than done.

First they had to get him awake.

Kathryn shook his shoulder gently. "Chakotay, it's time to wake up now. They've brought you some breakfast."

He didn't respond, but she noticed a change in his breathing pattern.

"Open your eyes for me," she encouraged.

But he kept them closed and shook his head. "Umm-umm," he mumbled.

Kathryn shook him again. "Come on, Chakotay, wake up."

Still, he refused, turning his head away from her on the pillow.

"Wake up, Commander. That's an order." She smiled, hoping her attempt at humor would rouse him. No such luck. She looked over at B'Elanna.

"Hey, Old Man," B'Elanna growled, thumping him lightly on his right arm, "no more sleeping. It's time to eat."

He batted his arm at her. "No… nah hun…gry…" he managed, trying to turn over in the bed.

"Hungry or not, you need to eat something." This time, B'Elanna wrapped her hand around his arm.

With a frustrated cry, Chakotay pulled his arm away and struck out at her again. B'Elanna easily avoided him, and his arm fell limply back on the bed.

Kathryn reached over and placed her hand against his cheek, tried to turn his face toward her. "Chakotay," she said firmly, "open those eyes and look at me."

His head strained against her hand, resisting the movement. "Umm," he protested, and she could tell that he was keeping his eyes tightly closed on purpose.

And she realized what he was doing.

Kathryn slammed her hand down on the bedside table. "Damn it, look at me, Chakotay!" The words were hard – loud and sharp.

And B'Elanna took a step back, not expecting the words or the force behind them, surprised by Kathryn's reaction. But it had worked.

Chakotay instantly stopped struggling and his eyes snapped open. He stared up at Kathryn, the sound of his ragged breathing filling the sudden silence of the room.

She reached out and took hold of his face, hands on his cheeks, keeping his head steady, his gaze focused on her. "I know what you're doing," she breathed. "And you can't. You can't shut all of this out and pretend that it's not happening."

Chakotay tried to pull away, sudden tears spilling over onto his cheeks.

"You have to deal with this," Kathryn continued, blinking at the tears in her own eyes. "_We_ have to deal with this."

He closed his eyes against her words, his expression hard and unyielding. Reaching up with his right hand, he tried to push her hands away, free himself from the grip she had on his head. "Leave…" he demanded, his voice surprisingly strong. "J-Just… leave."

And Kathryn stepped back, letting go of him, her hands falling to her sides. "All right. If that's what you want."

B'Elanna hadn't moved in the last minute. She'd stood on the other side of the bed watching and listening. And now she waited to see if Kathryn was bluffing or if she meant it.

Kathryn turned and picked up her coat that was hanging over the back of the chair; she folded it over her arm and stepped toward the door. "B'Elanna, I know you'll contact me if… you need to." Her voice was quiet and calm, and she took another step, activating the door.

Chakotay's eyes flew open. "No…" he sobbed. "D-Don't… go." His face crumpled, the tears dripping off his cheeks onto the front of his gown. "Ne- Need… you."

And she was back at his side in a heartbeat, gathering him in her arms, pulling his head to her shoulder, rocking him against her body. Her own tears were falling now, and she rubbed her face against the top of his head, the bristles of his hair soft on her cheeks. "Oh, Chakotay, I'm not going anywhere. I'll stay here as long as you want me."

He wrapped his right arm around her, holding on tightly.

And she held him, cradled him, let the storm pass. And when the broken sobs grew quiet, and his breathing became steady, she drew back from him, wiped her face and then his with her fingertips. She gave him a half smile. "We make quite a pair, don't we?"

And he nodded slightly, his lower lip held between his teeth as he fought the emotions that still threatened to overwhelm him

"So we're going to face this together?"

Another nod, stronger now.

She cupped his cheek with her hand. "I know you're scared," she said softly, "but I need you to be that angry warrior for me. All right?"

Kathryn saw the fear and confusion warring behind his eyes, but she also saw something else - a spark of anger and determination. And that's what he would need now, and tomorrow, and next week.

He swallowed, licked at his lips, and gave her another shake of his head – a silent promise.

Kathryn took a deep breath and smiled. "Good. Let's eat some breakfast."

She helped him sit up and pushed some extra pillows behind his back. B'Elanna pulled the tray table over in front of him and traded places with Kathryn, who went and settled on the right side of the bed. B'Elanna ran her hand over his shoulders – silent acceptance and support. But Chakotay lowered his eyes, realizing that she'd seen his weakness, his tears. Sensing his shame, B'Elanna took his chin between her fingers and turned his face towards her. "I won't let you shut me out, Old Man. We're all in this together. Got that?"

He sighed and a tired smile creased his lips; he couldn't hide from either of them. "Got… it."

"Okay. Now let's try some oatmeal." And B'Elanna was pushing a spoon toward his mouth before he even had a chance to resist.

Kathryn simply sat back and let B'Elanna do what she did best - work miracles on broken machinery.

Twenty minutes later, there seemed to be more food on Chakotay's chest and chin than in his mouth. But he had managed to eat at least half a bowl of oatmeal and several bites of apple sauce. Every spoonful was a small battle won, and the cost of every battle shown plainly in his eyes. Kathryn knew how hard this was for him, how difficult it was to be weak in front of the people he'd sworn to protect. She squeezed his hand in hers and simply gave him all the silent support she could. She felt his fingers squeeze back.

"All right. One more bite and we can call it a done deal," B'Elanna proposed.

Chakotay opened his mouth and took the apple sauce onto his tongue. It was somewhat difficult to swallow, and it took several seconds, but he managed to get most of it down. He could feel some of it dripping onto his chin, but he knew B'Elanna would wipe it away. At least she didn't do that thing they did with babies, scooping it up and shoving it back in. He wasn't sure how to thank her for that. He would just have to assume that she could sense his gratitude. Just like the pressure of his fingers against Kathryn's was telling her what he couldn't put into words. But he only had to look in Kathryn's eyes to know that she understood.

"Done," B'Elanna announced and then fixed him with a firm gaze. "I let you be lazy this morning. But there's nothing wrong with your right hand. At lunch, I expect you to let go of Kathryn long enough to feed yourself, okay?"

Chakotay's chest moved with silent laughter. "'kay," he breathed. "But… d-don't lak… sli… mee food."

~vVv~

He was more alert when his doctors came at 1000 hours, and he seemed to have better control of his movements, speech, and emotions. Kathryn was pleased to see the improvement, as were his nurses. Already she'd heard several of them whispering among themselves, attributing his progress to her presence. She didn't want to take credit for it - it was Chakotay. They only knew him as a patient - they didn't know the man that he really was - the strength, the courage, the damn stubborn streak that drove her to madness.

And now she sat next to him on the side of his bed watching him assert that streak as he spoke with his medical team. She held his hand securely in hers – a bit of support – but he was doing damn fine without her.

"How… l-long?" He looked squarely at the Doctor, bypassing the Starfleet Medical physician who had been assigned to his case.

Kathryn knew he didn't mean to be rude by excluding Dr. Harrow; she just knew, as Chakotay did, that their Doctor was the one you had to get around.

He gave a long suffering sigh and arched both eyebrows. "Commander, you can't necessarily put a time frame on your recovery. You are looking at extensive therapy - physical, occupational, speech. Complete rehabilitation depends on many factors, and to put a time limit on them-"

"How… long?" Chakotay's voice was stronger now, more adamant. Kathryn could feel the tension just from her grasp on his hand, and she squeezed his fingers softly.

The Doctor sighed again and rolled his eyes, casting an exasperated look in Sam Harrow's direction. "You see what I had to put up with for over seven years. And the Commander is just one of many." He glanced toward Kathryn. "_Voyager_ crew members are notorious for disregarding medical advice and insisting on terminating care before it is advisable."

Harrow smiled indulgently at his colleague; this wasn't the first time he'd had the pleasure of working with the Doctor. "I can see that," he concurred, "but at the same time, I'd much rather be working with individuals who possess strong personalities and determination. I'm sure you'll agree that in the long run it makes our jobs all the more easier." He shifted his gaze toward Chakotay. "But I'm not going to sugarcoat this, Commander. Your recovery will be difficult. You've got a lot of hard work ahead of you. We need to get that left side moving and get you back on your feet. Clear up that speech, and make sure you can take care of yourself - dressing, feeding, getting around on you own. It may all seem overwhelming to you right now, but I do believe that complete recovery is possible."

He could tell that Chakotay was about to ask his question again, and this time he endeavored to give him some sort of answer. "The Doctor doesn't like to give imprecise information, but I'm willing to give you some ballpark estimates - one more week here at Starfleet Medical, another week or two at our rehab facility, and then at least four weeks of recovery at home."

Chakotay's mouth tightened into a thin line, and he shook his head. "T-Too… long," he grumbled.

"As much as I don't like 'imprecise information,'" the Doctor interjected, "I'm in agreement with those estimates. And I know you, Commander. You're already thinking about how you can compact that time."

He gave him a hard gaze. "I have… c-classes to t-teach." Despite the hesitancy of his speech, he was insistent.

Kathryn knew how much his new position meant to him, how much he liked teaching. On _Voyager_, in his capacity as First Officer, he'd taken every aspect of his job seriously, attending to every detail, chafing when he had to take time off due to injury or illness. He felt the same now about his work at the Academy. Those were his classes, his cadets. And he had a responsibility to them just as he had to the crew.

She rubbed the back of his hand reassuringly. "Chakotay, your classes will be covered. And they'll still be there, waiting for you, when you're better."

Harrow nodded in agreement. "You don't need to worry about work right now. You're going to have enough to keep you busy. But you can't rush it."

"Dr. Harrow is correct," the Doctor chided. "You can't rush it. Rushing your recovery is inadvisable and could lead to further injury."

Kathryn tightened her grip on his hand. "Listen to them, Chakotay."

He looked at her, and she could see the fear and frustration in his eyes. She sighed. For seven years, he had been her voice of reason, and sometimes caution, but always patience - with everyone and every situation - except himself. "You're going to have to be patient."

"She's right, Old Man."

They both looked down at B'Elanna, who sat perched on the corner of his bed. She reached out and rubbed her hand over his blanketed knee. The love she had for him shown openly on her face.

A half grin lifted the corner of Chakotay's mouth. "Not… that… old," he insisted, moving his right leg hard enough to successfully knock her off the edge of the bed.

B'Elanna, who was clearly taken by surprise, grabbed at the footboard to steady herself.

The Doctor smiled broadly. "Well, if the Commander shows that amount of effort during his physical therapy sessions, we may have to amend our initial recovery estimates."

~vVv~


	4. Chapter 4

After meeting with the doctors, B'Elanna left to check on Miral. "Don't give her a hard time," were her parting words as she stared at Chakotay and then glanced at the captain.

Before he could protest, Kathryn responded with, "I'll keep him in line."

And he grimaced. One of them was enough to drive him over the edge, but both of them… The expression on his face softened - he wouldn't have it any other way.

As B'Elanna left, a dark-haired woman came into the room. "Commander Chakotay," she addressed him and then looked toward Kathryn, "Captain Janeway, I'm Grace Whitney; I'll be helping the commander with his speech."

Kathryn stepped over and shook her hand. "It's nice to meet you, Ms. Whitney."

"Please, call me Grace."

"And I'm Kathryn." She looked over at Chakotay, and then back to the speech therapist. "Would it be better if I left for a little while?"

"You're welcome to stay if it's all right with the commander. We won't be working for long this morning. I just want to assess his current level and work through a few exercises."

"S-Stay," Chakotay breathed.

And Kathryn smiled. "I'll sit over here." She pulled one of the chairs over to the corner of the room, not wanting to be in the way.

Grace pulled the other chair right up to the edge of the bed and sat down. "Commander, can I call you Chakotay?"

He nodded. He liked her. She was confident and direct.

"All right, Chakotay, I'm already hearing that slurring on the soft consonant sounds, so let me hear some more letters. I'm going to go through the alphabet, and you repeat after me. A."

"Ay." He responded clearly.

"Vowels are easy. Try B."

This time he had difficulty. "Buh… buh…. Bee," he finally forced out, eyes creasing and lips twisting with the effort.

Grace reached out and massaged the facial muscles on his left side. "Hard consonants - not as much fun. Let's keep going."

Over the next several minutes, Kathryn watched and listened as they made their way through the alphabet. Grace was right. The vowels came easily, but he stuttered on most of the hard consonants like B, K, and P. The soft consonants - like M and S - were slurred and elongated. But still, he managed all twenty-six letters, which Grace assured was a good sign.

"It's going to get easier. Muscles in the face tend to come back quicker than those in the arms or legs. Let's try some words." And she rattled off a list of words - animals, objects, places - that Chakotay repeated after her. Some words were more difficult than others, and after only fifteen minutes, Kathryn could tell that he was tiring. And of course, Grace could see it, too.

"I think that's plenty for today, Chakotay." She patted his arm. "I'll be back tomorrow morning for another session."

He nodded and let his head fall back on the pillow, his eyes closing.

Kathryn walked with the therapist to the door and stepped into the hall with her. "He did well," Grace reassured her. "I know it's difficult to hear him struggling to speak, but he's actually got some good control. Try to keep him talking as much as possible. The exercise will be good for him."

"Thank you," she offered, and then went back into the room.

Chakotay's eyes were still closed, and she could hear his breathing growing deeper.

"N-not… slee-sleeping," he murmured. "J-just… resting… m-my eyes."

And Kathryn smiled.

~vVv~

He lay on his back, sprawled in the middle of the bed, taking up both sides. Something she knew he did when she wasn't there. Something he tried to do even when she was.

His right arm was thrown over his eyes, and his left rested across his bare stomach. The blankets had been pushed off and the sheets were twisted at his feet, affording her a good view of the man she loved. Long legs, lightly muscled, stretched almost to the end of the bed. Narrow hips and shoulders, fair chest sparsely covered in red-gold curls. He was clad in only his underwear. He'd simply stripped down to his boxers and fallen into bed, putting on pajamas an extra step he was too tired to make.

B'Elanna knew the feeling. She was exhausted. She'd gotten very little sleep the night before. After almost four years of loving Tom and sharing a bed with him, she found it difficult to sleep alone.

A difficulty her husband didn't seem to have. "No problem sleeping without the wife," she thought out loud, as she headed toward the bathroom.

And that's when his voice stopped her. "Who said I was asleep?"

She looked back. He'd moved his arm up, and she could see that his eyes were open. A slow grin played across his lips. "You came home to watch me sleep, didn't you?"

She sighed and crossed her arms in front of her, stood with one hip jutting out slightly, fixed him with a steady gaze. "If you weren't sleeping, then I can't be guilty of watching you."

He pushed himself up on his elbows. "But you didn't know I was awake. And you've been here for… at least five minutes."

"If you knew I was here, why didn't you say something?"

"And deprive you of watching your husband slumber?" He arched his eyebrows at her. "Besides, admit it, you were enjoying the view."

"Uhh," she groaned, squeezing her hands into fists, "sometimes you are so…"

He jumped up from the bed and went over to her, taking her hands in his, rubbing her clenched fingers. "Irresistible?" he whispered, low and breathy, leaning down and placing a warm kiss on her neck.

B'Elanna sighed and relaxed into him. "Insatiable," she breathed as he drew her back towards the bed.

"Another good quality," he murmured, pressing her down into the mattress, his body covering hers.

~vVv~

"I j-just… ate," Chakotay complained when a nurse brought him lunch an hour later.

Kathryn had to agree with him. "I know. But they want you to eat again before you have your physical therapy session. Build up your strength a little more." She moved the tray table over and settled on the edge of the bed next to him, spreading a napkin over his chest and tucking it in to the top of his gown. "Now, B'Elanna went to check on Miral, but when she gets back, I want to be able to tell her that you ate this all by yourself."

She picked up the spoon and pressed it into his right hand.

"They asked me what kind of soup you might like." She pushed the bowl closer to him.

He peered down at it. And Kathryn saw a look of confusion, a slight frown forming on his face. "C-corn," he ventured.

She shook her head. "Try again."

He studied the bowl for a few seconds longer. "No… not… y-yellow. Umm… m…mush…room."

"That's it."

He looked up at her, and she could tell he was worried. "You may have some slight memory loss - nothing to get overly concerned about. It'll come back to you."

And he nodded, managing a half of a dimpled smile. With that familiar glint in his eye, he dipped the spoon into the bowl, leaned forward, and took a hearty bite of soup. He savored the taste for a few seconds before swallowing. It was getting easier, and he flashed her a cocky grin.

Kathryn swatted him playfully on the hand. "Oh, you are overly proud of yourself, mister."

Chakotay just shot her another dimpled grin and continued eating. He wasn't really that hungry, but the soup was good.

Kathryn sat and watched him, but he could tell there was something she wasn't saying.

After several minutes, he dropped the spoon into the bowl and sat back. "Wh-what?" he asked.

She blinked at him. "What?"

"S...say it. Wh-what… you're… thinking."

She smiled softly and shook her head. "You always know when I'm thinking."

"Always… thinking… t-too much."

Kathryn reached over and took his right hand in her hands, held it securely in her lap, her fingers stroking his. The silence stretched for several minutes.

"K-Kathryn…" he prompted.

And she looked up, took a deep breath, released it slowly. "About this morning…" She saw his eyes drop away from her gaze, and she squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry… that I… was going to leave."

He shook his head and looked back up at her, eyes suddenly glassy and bright with tears. "N-no… I… ne-needed that… need you." Nervously, his tongue licked over his lower lip. "C-can't… do it… alone."

Kathryn touched her other hand to his chest, felt the beating of his heart. "You aren't alone, Chakotay."

And tears gathered in her own eyes as she remembered those words – words that he had spoken to her so many years ago.

"I was thinking about what Dr. Harrow said. It's not going to be easy. And I know you… You're a very… proud man." She saw his eyes narrow in concern, felt his hand grasp hers. Quickly, she moved her hand from his chest and placed it against his cheek. "That's a good thing. But it's going to be difficult… You want to be strong, and in control, and…" She hesitated. "I will be here for you. I won't leave."

She felt his hand close tighter around hers.

And she drew in a deep breath. "Tom said something to me last night. He told me that I… pick and choose when I want to be Kathryn and when I want to be the Captain."

Chakotay lowered his eyes again, but not before she saw the hurt and recognition fill their dark depths. So many years she'd done this to him. He was her best friend, her closest confidant, but when they got too close, too… intimate, she hid behind those four pips on her collar, kept him in that place at her side and slightly behind. Even since they'd returned to the Alpha Quadrant, she'd kept a certain distance. And his relationship with Seven had made that distance a little easier to allow - even though it barely lasted a month. Somehow they'd been able to discuss that relationship late one night over several glasses of Antarian cider and just as many cups of coffee, and yet - they couldn't discuss their own relationship. Until now…

Kathryn moved her fingers to his chin and raised his gaze back to her. "I'm sorry. For all those years that I…kept Kathryn safely tucked behind the Captain. It _was_ protocol, and duty…and guilt. I felt like I had to. But not anymore. I only want to be Kathryn with you, Chakotay… I love you."

He released her grasp and lifted his right hand to her face, the tips of his fingers brushing softly over her cheek. "Love… you," he whispered, bending closer to her, their lips touching, soft and gentle, but there was pressure behind it - an intensity, a promise - and Kathryn felt the distance closing.

~vVv~


	5. Chapter 5

He lay sprawled in the middle of the bed, only this time he wasn't alone. B'Elanna was curled next to him, her head resting on his shoulder, fingers running lightly through the hair on his chest. The beating of his heart was slowing, returning to normal, and he stared lazily at the ceiling above him, watching as the early afternoon sun angled through the window, bathing the room around them in white light.

He sighed. He'd always liked making love in the middle of the day. It always seemed a little more… daring. And he liked the natural light – loved seeing B'Elanna beneath him, and above him, her skin damp and golden, her dark hair falling around her face.

He nuzzled his lips against her, kissed the ridges on her forehead. And he felt her shiver.

"Is that desire? Or are you cold?" he murmured.

She exhaled a deep breath, and relaxed into him. "Sorry, Helmboy, but I'm too tired for any more 'desire.' It's a bit chilly in here."

Tom reached down with one hand and grabbed a corner of the sheet, pulled it up over them, the fingers of his other hand tracing soft patterns over her shoulder.

"How was he when you left?"

He felt B'Elanna smile against his chest. "You make passionate love to your wife and then ask about Chakotay?"

She felt his shoulders shrug underneath her head. "I think he's part of the reason why I just made passionate love to my wife."

B'Elanna shifted, turned her head, propped her chin on his chest, gazed into his eyes. "An affirmation of life?"

Tom touched his fingers to her cheek. "He didn't die, B'Elanna."

"But he could have."

He drew in a breath and let it out. "I know."

He saw her lower lip tremble. "I love him, Tom."

"So do I."

And then he saw the tears. And then he felt them as she pressed her face to his chest and cried.

~vVv~

After lunch, a nurse came in pushing a cart that held bathing and toileting items, and despite their new understanding, Kathryn thought it best to give him some privacy. At least for now. She had a feeling that over the next few months they would be crossing a lot of new barriers, but there was no need to rush things, and some situations were best left in the hands of professionals.

She leaned over and brushed a kiss across his forehead before she left. "I'm going to find a cup of coffee and a sandwich. I'll be back in…" She glanced over at the nurse.

"About thirty minutes," she answered the unspoken question.

"Thirty minutes," Kathryn repeated.

Chakotay stared up at her, and she saw another battle waging in his eyes – he wanted her to stay, and yet he didn't. His right hand held on to her arm.

"I'll be back," she promised. "Let Beth do her job."

The nurse looked up from the items she was organizing. "You'll feel much better after a bath, Commander."

Grudgingly, he nodded and let his hand fall away from Kathryn's arm. She scooted out the door before either of them changed their minds.

She went to the cafeteria on the first floor, and since it was only a little after 1300 hours, they were still serving lunch. She grabbed a turkey sandwich and a cup of coffee and then found a table by one of the large windows that looked out onto a park.

It was beautiful and sunny, and she realized that it was the first time she'd seen San Francisco in the light of day in over two weeks. Was it only last night that she'd returned from Vulcan? It seemed like ages ago. She suddenly realized that she'd spent half the day with Chakotay and hadn't checked in with her office yet. She was surprised that her assistant, Jack Hampton, hadn't sent out a search party.

Gathering her half-eaten sandwich and cup of coffee, she went over to one of the communication stations that were situated along one side of the dining area. She sank down in front of the screen and activated a link to her office.

"Captain Janeway." Jack's smiling face greeted her.

At thirty-six, the red-haired, freckle-faced man looked more like sixteen, but he had proven to be a wonderful assistant – quick, intelligent, organized – and he had a wicked sense of humor. He was always respectful, but, unlike some of the personnel at HQ, he didn't suffer from hero worship when it came to Kathryn Janeway. His straight-forward manner kept her head from getting too big and firmly anchored her feet to the ground.

"How is Commander Chakotay?" he inquired.

She shook her head. "You knew I was here."

"Lieutenant Commander Paris contacted me this morning."

Kathryn smiled. _Tom taking care of the lives that belonged to him._ "I'm glad he did, and I'm sorry that I didn't."

"No reason to be sorry. You have more important matters on your mind."

"I do. And thank you for asking – the commander is… well, he's going to be fine. It may take some time, but…" She hesitated, realizing that Chakotay was going to need her close by for a while. "Jack, I need you to cancel… everything for the rest of the week. I have my conference notes, and I'll send them to you later this evening. Organize them and forward the information to Admiral Paris for me."

"Yes, Captain, I'll take care of it."

"I'm going to be spending a lot of time here for the next several days, but you can contact me if something comes up." She now remembered that she'd noticed a communications console in the entry area of Chakotay's room. "The commander's room number is 825."

"Don't worry." Jack grinned. "You've been on Vulcan for two weeks." Which was his way of saying that he had everything under control.

And she knew he did. If he could handle her office while she was off-world, then he could handle it while she was at Starfleet Medical.

"Thanks, Jack."

"You're welcome, Captain."

And she terminated the link.

Her office could get along just fine without her, but right now, there was a man upstairs who couldn't.

~vVv~

She stood quietly in the entry area of his room; it was a small alcove with the bathroom to her right and a desk with the communications console on her left. She hadn't stepped into the main room yet because the nurse was still with him. From her position, she could see Beth moving around the bed, checking the various lines – IV, catheter – and then she reached down and changed out the bag on the side of the bed, adjusted the tubing.

"D-don't… want it," Chakotay grumbled as she lifted the edge of the sheet and his gown to straighten the tube, and then quickly smoothed the covers back into place.

Although all Kathryn could see was the movement of the blankets, she still stepped back, feeling as if she were intruding. And yet, she was curious to hear how this little drama was going to play out.

"I understand, Commander," Beth replied, "but incontinence is a common side effect after a stroke. You've lost some sensation on your left side, and you may not know when you need to urinate. We usually leave the catheter in for a few days, and then we'll remove it and assess your ability to control your bladder."

Kathryn knew he wouldn't argue with solid medical reasoning, but that didn't mean he still couldn't complain.

"D-don't… like it." His voice was hard, and Kathryn could only imagine the look on his face.

"Most patients don't," Beth agreed, "but it's a necessary evil." She paused at the end of his bed, picked up the medical padd that was attached to the footboard, and entered some information. She glanced to her right and saw Kathryn.

With a quick shake of her head, Kathryn stopped her from saying anything.

Beth replaced the padd and addressed Chakotay. "Your physical therapist should be here within the hour. Is there anything I can bring you?"

There was a moment's hesitation, and then his answer. "No."

He sounded defeated. _If she couldn't get rid of the damn catheter… _

"All right. I'm sure the captain will be back in a little while."

Kathryn suppressed a laugh. She didn't have to imagine the look he was giving Beth now. She'd seen it countless times herself. What was it about men and not getting their way…

Beth met her at the door and they stepped into the hall.

"He's not very happy right now," the nurse said.

"I heard."

"He'll be all right," Beth offered. "We'll probably take the catheter out tomorrow."

"Oh, he'll be fine," Kathryn assured. "Don't let those baby browns get to you. Or the dimples."

"He does have quite an arsenal, doesn't he?" Beth smiled and patted her on the arm. "He's all yours now. The physical therapist will be here in a little while."

"Thanks."

Kathryn squared her shoulders and went back into the room. Chakotay was propped up in bed, and despite the scowl on his face, he seemed refreshed. Hair brushed, face shaved. His blue gown was crisp and clean, and Beth had changed the sheets and pillow cases.

Kathryn sat down on the edge of his bed, taking note of the sullen expression on his face. "For a man who just had a pretty nurse give him a bath, you don't look very satisfied."

Chakotay cut his eyes in her direction, looked at her appraisingly.

She could feel the heat of his gaze.

"N-not… you," he sighed, regret evident in his tone.

Kathryn smiled and leaned toward him, kissed him gently on the lips. When she pulled back, he pressed forward, eager to continue. She placed a finger on his lower lip, stopping him. "While the offer is tempting, you need to conserve your energy for your physical therapy session."

He covered her hand with his, kissed her fingers, but relaxed back into the pillows. "After… m-my s-session?"

"You'll be too tired."

He shook his head. "N-never."

~vVv~

Tom zipped up his uniform jacket, shrugged his shoulders, and looked toward the bathroom. "So, how was he when you left?" he repeated the question he'd asked earlier.

B'Elanna appeared in the doorway, a robe wrapped around her, a towel in her hand. "He was doing better." A soft smile lit her face. "She's here."

It was all the explanation that needed to be given.

Tom grinned. "Yeah, if we could just figure out how to bottle Kathryn Janeway, we'd have a former First Officer who would never get sick."

B'Elanna dropped her gaze to the floor, twisted the towel in her fingers. "I just want him to get well."

"He will," Tom assured her, crossing over and wrapping his hands around her upper arms. He kissed her on the top of the head.

And she looked up at him, her eyes searching his. "Kathryn told me what you said to her last night."

Tom's expression grew wary. "Wrong thing to say?"

B'Elanna pressed her hand to his cheek. "No, it was the right thing. She needed to hear it."

He let out the breath he'd been holding. "Well, I know you've tried telling Chakotay for months-"

"Years," she interrupted. "Damn old man won't listen. Can't see that everything he wants… everything he needs is right there in front of him."

Tom shook his head. "He sees it, B'Elanna. You know that. He's always seen it. They both have. They're just too afraid to admit it." He lifted his hand, gently ran his fingers through her hair. "Loving someone… so much… can be frightening."

B'Elanna leaned into him. "So, what about you, Helmboy? Are you frightened of me?"

He lowered his lips to hers. "Absolutely terrified."

~vVv~


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm Scott Peyton." The man who extended his hand to her was tall and muscular with sandy blond hair and blue eyes.

"Captain Kathryn Janeway," she replied, standing and shaking his hand.

"Commander," Scott shook the hand that Chakotay raised. "I'm going to be your physical therapist while you're here."

"Cha…kotay."

Scott grinned. "Good. Commander's too formal."

Kathryn took a step back from the bed.

Scott noticed her movement. "If it's all right with Chakotay, I'd like you to stay, Captain. I'm going to be doing some range of motion exercises with him, and it's a good idea for family and friends to learn them as well."

Chakotay nodded, and Kathryn moved back closer to the bed. "Only if you call me Kathryn."

"Kathryn it is. Now," he turned his attention back toward Chakotay, "the first thing I want to do is assess the strength and motion you have on your left side."

Being careful with the IV line, he lifted Chakotay's left arm about a foot off the bed and held it there. "Now, I'm going to let go, but I want you to hold that arm in place." Scott lowered his hands, keeping them a few inches below the arm.

It trembled, but Chakotay was able to keep the arm in place for several seconds before it dropped into Scott's hands.

"Very good. Now try lifting it on your own."

Kathryn watched the focused concentration cross Chakotay's face, tension lines creased around his eyes with the amount of effort he was putting forth. But he did it. He lifted his arm two or three inches and, again, held it there for several seconds before he let it drop.

Scott lowered the arm back to the bed and picked up Chakotay's hand, cradling it in his own hand. "All right. Make a fist."

Slowly, Chakotay closed his fingers into a loose fist.

"Tighter," Scott instructed.

Again, tension lined his face and he grunted with the effort, but his fingers tightened before relaxing.

"Good job, Chakotay. That's really good. You've got some strength there that's going to make our work easier over the next several days." He reached down and pulled the covers away from his left side. "Now, let's take a look at that leg."

Chakotay's left leg was braced on one side by a long foam pillow, and Scott carefully pulled it away and placed it on the chair behind him.

This was the first time since his stroke that Kathryn had gotten a closer look at his lower body, but the leg didn't look any different. Still, she could see the uncertainty in Chakotay's eyes now that he was more exposed. She knew he was feeling vulnerable. She reached over and closed her hand around his shoulder, gave him a reassuring smile, and was pleased to see him relax at her touch.

"All right. We're going to do the same thing with the leg." Scott raised it a foot off the bed and held it there. "This is going to be more difficult," he warned. "Legs weigh more than arms. I'm going to let go and I want you to hold the leg in place."

Again, he lowered his hands.

The leg immediately dropped.

"That's all right," Scott reassured, seeing the frustration trace across Chakotay's features. "Let's try it again."

He lifted the leg back up, and then let go.

Chakotay groaned with the effort, but this time he was able to keep the leg up for a few seconds.

"That's it. Nice work." Scott lowered the leg back to the bed.

Looking up, Kathryn saw beads of perspiration dotting Chakotay's forehead. She reached over and wiped them away with her fingertips. He gave her a tired smile.

Scott noticed the look of exhaustion on Chakotay's face. "All right. You'll be glad to know that the rest of the exercises won't require any more effort on your part today." He looked over at Kathryn. "This is where I need your help. We're going to do some passive range of motion exercises. Even though it's his left side that's been affected, it's a good idea to do these on both sides since he's spending more time in bed. So I'm going to work his left side, and Kathryn, you can mirror what I do on his right."

She nodded and lifted Chakotay's right arm as Scott lifted his left. Over the next fifteen minutes, she followed the therapist's movements as he manipulated the arm and then the leg in random movements, gentle stretching designed to keep the muscles loose and the joints limber.

Scott was right when he said that it wouldn't require any effort from Chakotay; by the time they were finished, his eyes were closed. Kathryn knew he wasn't asleep, but he was deeply relaxed. _Just resting his eyes._

When their movement stopped, his eyes blinked open.

"Welcome back," Kathryn teased, brushing her fingers through his hair. "You take a nap while we do all the work."

He just grinned, but Scott spoke up.

"Don't worry. Those were passive range of motion exercises. When I get him down in the gym, we'll work on the active ones." He patted Chakotay on the shoulder. "By tomorrow we're going to get you up on your feet." He saw the flash of concern in Chakotay's eyes. "Trust me. I've worked with a lot of stroke patients, and you're going to be just fine."

~vVv~

Tom had a flight class to instruct and B'Elanna went to check on Miral, but they arranged to return to Starfleet Medical later in the afternoon. B'Elanna got there first.

"She spoils her," she announced as she entered the room. "Don't get me wrong. I love Tom's mother, but she spoils the baby."

Kathryn looked up from the data padd she was reading, glanced at Chakotay, whose eyes were still closed, and then glanced at B'Elanna. "She's a grandmother, B'Elanna. That's what she's supposed to do."

B'Elanna pursed her lips. "There's nothing worse than a spoiled child. Especially a Klingon child."

"She's only four months old," Kathryn reassured her. "I'm sure she'll be fine."

"Maybe," she admitted grudgingly, and then looked over at Chakotay. "Is he asleep?"

"N-No," he answered himself, opening his eyes. "Too… loud." He reached up with his right hand and rubbed it along his chin. The drooling problem was getting better, but he still had difficulty whenever he slept or rested. At least now, he was wiping his own face.

B'Elanna frowned. "Sorry."

Kathryn shook her head. "Don't listen to him. He's been awake for fifteen minutes. He's just been… _resting his eyes_."

Chakotay flashed her a playful, threatening glare.

And Kathryn laughed. "I'm like Santa Claus. I know when you're sleeping and when you're awake."

"And that's another thing – she's gotten her completely off her schedule – she didn't even have a morning nap!"

Just then the door slid open and Tom came striding into the room. "Is she complaining about my mother?" he asked going over and giving Kathryn a kiss on the cheek.

"Just slightly," Kathryn responded, her eyes still on the data padd.

"I told her there's no use in complaining." He went and sat on the edge of Chakotay's bed, squeezing his shoulder in greeting. "I've complained for over thirty years, and, believe me, neither of my parents is going to change."

"Tom…" Kathryn looked up from her padd and fixed him with a steady gaze.

And he easily read the silent words behind it. His father had changed. A lot. And so had his mother. Seven years with their only son lost in the Delta Quadrant had affected them all. Thankfully, in a positive way. He was closer to both of them than he had been in his entire life. But still… His mother was going to drive B'Elanna to the edge, and B'Elanna was going to drag him there with her.

Tom sighed. "B'Elanna, you're just going to have to loosen up…"

"Loosen up?!"

"Would anyone like to know how our day was?" Kathryn interrupted before B'Elanna could continue. She glanced over at Chakotay and saw the amusement in his eyes. Most of the time he enjoyed watching B'Elanna be… B'Elanna.

"Of course, Kathryn." B'Elanna took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm sorry." She went over to the bed and kissed Chakotay on the forehead. "How are you doing?"

He smiled. "F-fine… thanks f-for… asking."

"We've had a very productive day," Kathryn said, getting up and crossing to the end of the bed, one hand resting on Chakotay's blanket-covered foot. "His speech therapist said that he has some good control of his voice; according to his physical therapist, he's got a fair amount of strength in his left arm and leg," she shifted her gaze to B'Elanna, "he ate all of his lunch on his own, and," her eyes settled on Tom, "I followed your advice."

Tom stared at her a moment, then glanced back at Chakotay and watched a slow grin spread across his face. He looked back at Kathryn, and she nodded.

"Well, it's about damn time!" he exclaimed, getting up and stepping over to Kathryn, wrapping her in an embrace.

B'Elanna leaned over and kissed Chakotay on the cheek this time. "Congratulations, Old Man," she whispered in his ear. She knew how long he'd been waiting.

"This is great, but," Tom pulled back from Kathryn, "I need you to keep this quiet for a little while longer."

Kathryn stared at him. "What?"

"Just don't go public for at least another month. Let's keep it to ourselves."

B'Elanna groaned. "In other words, don't tell Harry." She glared at her husband. "Face it, Helmboy, you lost the bet."

"Bet?" Kathryn's eyes widened and she shared an exasperated look with Chakotay.

B'Elanna hesitated, glanced at Chakotay, and then looked back to Kathryn. She let out a defeated sigh. "After Chakotay and Seven broke up, Tom bet Harry that it would take the two of you at least another four months before you admitted your feelings to each other. It's only been three."

Kathryn pressed her lips together and sighed before looking at Tom with a raised eyebrow. "Subconsciously, you must not have wanted to win that bet. If you had, you wouldn't have given me such good advice last night."

~vVv~


	7. Chapter 7

"You need to go home and get a good night's sleep. You haven't slept in your own bed for over two weeks. Tom can stay again tonight. Besides, he's already doing so much better. He's more alert, less frightened." She placed a hand on Kathryn's arm. "He knows you'll be back in the morning."

Kathryn acknowledged B'Elanna's concern by placing her own hand on top of hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'm staying, B'Elanna, for at least the next few nights. You're right. He is doing much better, and he'd probably be just fine without me." She smiled softly, realizing an important truth. "But _I_ need to be with him."

They were standing in the hall while Tom and Harry, who had arrived twenty minutes earlier, were keeping Chakotay entertained. B'Elanna leaned back against the wall and studied the captain. She knew there was no changing her mind once she'd made a decision. And she really couldn't blame her. If their roles had been reversed, and it was Tom in that bed, well…

"I understand, but at least go home long enough to change and put a few things together. We'll be here with him."

"I was going to suggest that. I'd love to take a quick bath, and then get into some more comfortable clothes. I've already talked with the nursing staff. They're going to bring a cot in for me. They offered to bring one in for Tom, but he refused."

B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "Tom wasn't planning on sleeping. He was keeping guard. Sometimes he takes that 'your life is mine' routine a little too far."

"Sometimes I'm glad he does."

And B'Elanna sighed. "Me, too."

"All right." Kathryn's voice shifted to her command tone. "You're going to oversee dinner. He can feed himself just fine. Make him identify the foods by name before he eats them."

B'Elanna gave her a puzzled expression.

"He's having a little difficulty with his memory. I spoke to one of the nurses. She said that's one of the things his occupational therapist will work on with him starting tomorrow. We can help by getting him to name objects and people."

"Well, he knows us. But I'll bring some holoimages tomorrow. See if he can recognize members of the crew and friends and family."

"Good idea." Kathryn thought for a moment. "Speaking of family, Sekaya needs to be contacted, but I know Chakotay will disagree."

B'Elanna nodded in agreement. "Dorvan V is so far away, and he won't want to worry her."

"I know. I'll try talking to him about it tonight when I get back."

Just then the door slid open and Tom stepped into the hall. "We were wondering where you two went." He pointed his thumb back over his shoulder. "I think the big guy's missing you."

Kathryn smiled at Tom's words. "Well, he'll have to miss me a little while longer. I'm going back to my place to pick up a few things. But I've got some parting orders for all of you," she said as she brushed past Tom and went back into the room.

"Yes, ma'am," Tom responded as he and B'Elanna followed her.

Kathryn went over to the bed and placed a hand on Chakotay's shoulder, and he smiled up at her. "I'm going home to get a few things, and then I'm coming back to stay the night."

He shook his head. "No… you s-stay home. G-get s-some… sleep."

She leaned into him, pressed her mouth close to his ear. "I won't get any sleep with you here and me there, so I might as well be here, too." She kissed his cheek before she pulled away.

And he lowered his eyes briefly in silent acceptance. And in silent relief. He wanted her to stay.

"B'Elanna is going to make sure you eat your dinner. And identify all the food by name before you do."

Chakotay groaned but lifted his mouth in a lopsided grin. "Aye… C-Captain."

"Very well, Commander. I'll see you in a little while." This time she leaned over and kissed him on the lips.

Behind her, Harry gave a startled gasp, and Tom and B'Elanna started laughing.

Kathryn pulled back slightly and gazed into Chakotay's eyes. "I guess we just went public."

~vVv~

The suitcases were exactly where she'd left them just the night before. It seemed like a year ago. She still didn't have the strength to carry them to her room and unpack them, so she simply stepped around them and headed toward her bedroom. She could put a few things in a shoulder bag, take a hot bath, change into some comfortable clothes, send her conference notes to Jack, and be back at Starfleet Medical in less than an hour. That was the plan.

And the plan was going well until she slipped into the hot water and it all came crashing down around her. As the stiff sore muscles of her body relaxed, so did the tight hold she'd kept on her emotions, and she found herself crying in great sobbing gasps as she clutched the sides of the tub with white-knuckled fists.

She felt as if she'd lived a lifetime in less than a day, the rollercoaster of emotions from the moment B'Elanna had told her last night until now, crying alone in the privacy of her own bathroom. And in between – seeing his face in the dimly lit room, watching him struggle to speak, hearing the words in halting syllables, feeling his fear, holding him while he cried. Telling him, finally, that she loved him. And listening as he told her. A lifetime and more.

She drew in a deep breath, tried to control the shaking of her shoulders, stop the tears that were coursing down her cheeks. She had to stay strong. For him. Her angry warrior who had always been there for her. She knew he would recover – she'd heard the doctors' words, but still… In some ways, this frightened her more than anything she'd ever faced in seven years in the Delta Quadrant.

~vVv~

The conversation went on to the side of him, above him, around him.

And without him.

Tom, Harry, and B'Elanna were telling stories, sharing memories, and he knew they thought he was a part of their conversation, but he wasn't. Not really.

He'd tried for a while to listen – to remember the different places, the situations – but his mind kept wandering – to Kathryn, to this morning, to their conversation – to the other afternoon and the searing pain that had ripped along the side of his skull sending him to the floor of his office, clutching at his head – and then back again to Kathryn.

Wasn't that what his mind always did – wander around in aimless circles until it turned back again to Kathryn? And in its wandering, today, somehow, it had found her, arriving in that place at the same time, in the same instance, and knowing together something they'd always known apart. And admitting it to each other, accepting, affirming…

And what should have made him strong, brought him to his knees and weakened him. For now, he needed her more than he ever had.

And yet, he wouldn't call it back, would never unsay the words that he'd said – would never let her deny what she'd held inside for so long – she'd given him her heart to hold, and he would keep it safe.

And together, somehow, he knew that his weakness would become their strength.

He sighed and rubbed at his eyes, felt the tears that his thoughts had caused. He knew it was a side effect of the stroke, knew that his emotions were raw, on the edge, too close to the surface, but still…

She'd been gone almost an hour, and he missed her so much it hurt, physically, the pain tracing down into his chest, the beating of his heart tapping hard against his ribs. He turned his head on the pillow, hoping that the others wouldn't see.

And Harry and Tom continued the conversation, which now seemed to have turned into a good-natured argument about the bet that Harry had won and Tom had lost. It went on across the room, in fits and starts, harmless curses and laughter. But it was B'Elanna who was beside him now, with him, outside the conversation, her fingers gently touching the skin beneath his eyes, wiping at the tears.

She sat on the edge of the bed, angling her body to keep Tom and Harry from seeing, pitching her voice low and soft. "Hey, she'll be back soon."

And he blinked at her through the tears. "I know."

"You did a hell of a job with dinner." She moved her fingers up to the hair at his temple, stroked over the grey strands.

"To-tomato… s-soup," he murmured.

"And…"

"C-cornbread."

She smiled down at him, and he was suddenly so tired, and her touch so soft.

He felt her press a kiss to his forehead, a whisper to his ear. "Go to sleep, Old Man. I'll stay right here."

~vVv~

He was still sleeping when Kathryn returned, and she and B'Elanna seamlessly switched places, one standing and the other sliding in next to Chakotay. They all said quiet goodbyes, exchanging hugs, holding each other, pressing hands to backs.

Harry kissed her on the cheek, and Kathryn felt tears instantly touch her eyes. He'd never done that before. Tom did, but Harry had always held back, kept that distance between them – ensign and captain. But not now – now it was Harry and Kathryn, and it felt good.

They were family. And what had happened to Chakotay had happened to them all – made them realize the importance of what they had. Not that seven years in the Delta Quadrant hadn't done the same, but this was here, and now, and close…

"I'll see you tomorrow," B'Elanna said softly as she pulled back from Kathryn. "Try to get some sleep."

She nodded. "I will."

Tom touched her arm. "He's had a few rough nightmares. I had to hold him down a few times. You call for a nurse if you need to."

"We'll be fine, Tom," she assured him. "I think his life is mine now, too."

Tom smiled. "I think it always was."

~vVv~

Tom suggested pizza, but Harry said he really wasn't hungry. Besides, he knew that Tom and B'Elanna needed to go by and pick up Miral, go home, and be a family for a while. They'd both been spending a lot of time with Chakotay. He figured they needed some time alone.

He didn't mind. He had some potential plans of his own. He'd called Libby earlier in the day to see if she'd be interested in a late night cup of coffee and cheesecake at the Intermezzo Café, and she'd given him an almost positive response. She'd said to call her at 2100 hours and she'd know whether she could take a break or not. She was in the middle of writing a musical review for the _San Francisco Chronicle_ and she had to make her deadline. If she was finished, she'd go. If not, he was on his own.

They weren't actually dating, just good friends. _Always friends_, Libby had sworn, but then again, neither of them was actually dating anyone else, so Harry hadn't totally let go of the idea. They enjoyed each other's company and still shared common interests, but they'd both changed a lot during the seven years that he'd been in the Delta Quadrant. The relationship may have been different, but the friendship was still good.

He checked his chronometer. 2030. The right amount of time for a leisurely walk down by the bay, and then head towards the café. Whether she was able to meet him or not, he'd been craving Ghirardelli chocolate cheesecake all day. He smiled. It was good to be back in San Francisco.

When he reached the bay, he sank down on a bench and stared out at the water. The past couple of days had been… scary. There were a lot of other words he could use to describe what had happened to Chakotay, but that was the word that kept hammering at his mind. When Tom had called him Tuesday evening and told him, he'd been shocked… and suddenly scared.

Chakotay was one of those "solids" in his life… steady, sure, strong… For years, he'd looked up to him on _Voyager_, and even now, back in the Alpha Quadrant, knowing that the former First Officer was teaching at the Academy made Harry feel good - and safe. Other young people were getting the benefit of Chakotay's wisdom, intelligence, expertise – and nurturing. Although he'd never tell him, Harry had to admit that Chakotay had been a father figure during those years in the Delta Quadrant.

And seeing him lying in that hospital bed had shaken Harry.

_He went in with B'Elanna, and Tom was already there, leaning by his bed, bathing his face with a damp cloth. He looked frail and sick, and not solid at all – he was fragile. And Harry was scared._

_He watched while B'Elanna leaned over him, stroked his cheeks, whispered in his ear. He saw Chakotay's eyes open, but he seemed lost, unaware… floating._

_He went back the next day, mid-morning, to give B'Elanna a break. Chakotay was sleeping. She said he'd been in and out of consciousness all night, but he'd been asleep since she'd arrived. She needed to check on Miral, and she'd be back within the hour._

_It was no rush. Harry had the morning off, and there was nowhere else he'd rather be._

_And so he sat there, watching him sleep. And once he opened his eyes. Harry saw recognition, and relief, and then a flash of disappointment. And he knew. He understood._

_He wasn't her._

_He reached out and touched his arm. "She'll be home soon." _

_And his eyes closed._

Harry leaned back against the bench and reached up to run a hand over his face. He was surprised to find tears there because he wasn't as scared anymore.

Kathryn had come home. Not the captain, not a title.

But Kathryn. And she was with him.

And Harry knew that would make him solid again.

~vVv~


	8. Chapter 8

It wasn't that late. Not 2100 hours yet. She'd wanted to talk to him about Sekaya, but she didn't want to wake him. He was sleeping soundly, each breath deep and relaxed. His face was peaceful now, the lines of tension that had creased the right side weren't as firmly etched as they had been when she'd first seen him. The left side not as slack. He was already getting better.

Kathryn sat in the chair close to his bed, just watching him. She was glad that she'd made the decision to stay the night. Before B'Elanna had left, she'd leaned over and whispered in her ear, "He missed you." Kathryn had only been gone a little over an hour – nothing compared to all those years she'd made him wait.

And she had made him wait. Until he couldn't wait any longer. And he'd arrived back in the Alpha Quadrant with Seven on his arm.

That had been a surprise. One that no one, other than Seven and perhaps the Doctor, had seen coming. And she'd been pleased for them. Sort of. She cared for both of them, for all of her crew, wanted each and every one of them to be happy, content. But Chakotay's relationship with Seven had left her… groundless. He was her first officer, her best friend… and the man that she loved. And she'd waited too long to tell him.

Coming back to the Alpha Quadrant had been a whirlwind of receptions and debriefings and news conferences. Looking back, she wasn't surprised that Chakotay's relationship with Seven had crumbled in that first month. Too much stress, too many demands, too few similarities on which to build a solid foundation.

It had been amicable; they were still friends – they still talked. But soon after the break-up, Seven had accepted a Science posting on Bajor.

And not long after that, Chakotay had showed up at her door late one night with two bottles of Antarian cider in his hands.

"_You do know what time it is, don't you?" Kathryn questioned even as she opened the door wider and silently invited him inside._

"_2300 hours, give or take a minute," he answered, brushing past her into the house._

_He wasn't drunk – stone cold sober. Not that she'd ever seen him overly intoxicated. But this was the first time he'd ever just appeared at the door of her townhouse. They were still friends, still saw each other at Starfleet Headquarters every now and then. But dinners and late night conversations – well, those were far away on Voyager._

"_I hope I didn't wake you," he offered as he made his way to the living room. "But I found these bottles of cider at a little package store down near the wharf and I couldn't think of anyone else I wanted to share them with."_

"_I'm flattered." She smiled. "I'll get some glasses."_

_She disappeared into the kitchen and then returned with two tall glasses. He'd made himself comfortable on the sofa, his gaze focused on the large windows that fronted on the bay, the city lights sparkling through the glass panes, dancing around the dim illumination of the room. And she paused in the doorway for a moment, studying him._

_He looked good. Since his return to the Alpha Quadrant, he'd cut his hair, wore it in the short crew cut style he'd worn when she'd first met him. And the traces off grey were back, a silver cast to the dark bristles above his forehead and at his temples. Somehow, instead of aging him, it made him look younger, boyish. He was dressed in civilian clothes, blue and white striped shirt, brown jacket, jeans, boots, which, she noted, he'd already pushed off and was in the process of propping his feet on her coffee table._

_She crossed over to him and handed him a glass. "Are you all right, Chakotay?"_

_He looked up and grinned. "I'm just fine."_

_She sat in the chair beside the sofa, pulled her legs up under her, and watched as he uncorked a bottle. She extended her glass and let him fill it to the brim. Then he filled his own glass._

"_To best friends," he toasted, clinking his glass against hers._

_And Kathryn smiled. And knew. "To best friends."_

_She wasn't sure how they started, or where they started, or who actually started. But they talked. For hours. About everything. Coming back to the Alpha Quadrant. The endless meetings. New postings and positions. Her work at Headquarters, his at the Academy. What the rest of the crew were doing. Who had moved where. Who had moved on. Who had moved in with whom. _

_And then they came to Seven._

_Chakotay tugged at his ear, his eyes casting downward. "You know we broke up a few weeks ago."_

_Kathryn nodded. She'd heard. The Starfleet grapevine was hard to ignore, even if you tried. And, she didn't always try._

_He looked back up at her, his tongue running along his lower lip. "She took a position on Bajor."_

_Another nod. She'd heard that, too._

_He sighed and a familiar, confused grin crossed his face. "Five weeks – not much of a relationship."_

"_Chakotay…"_

_He shook his head, dismissing her concern. "We were too different, too… disparate."_

_Kathryn narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "Ooh, good word…"_

_He chuckled and leaned back on the sofa, ran his hands down over his face. "We didn't really have much in common."_

"_Well, certainly not age." She couldn't help herself. It just came out. And she glanced over at him, not knowing what reaction she would get._

_He stared at her for a few moments, and then the left corner of his mouth lifted into a broad grin. And then he started laughing. Loud, genuine laughter, open, and honest, devoid of any bitterness._

"_Oh, I needed to hear that. From you. But I needed to hear it two months ago. B'Elanna tried, but I wasn't listening." He dropped his head back into the pillows and stared at the ceiling. "I'm forty-seven years old, Kathryn. Almost forty-eight. What was I thinking? Dating a woman twenty years younger."_

_She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You were thinking that… she was beautiful, and intelligent, and caring, and… funny in her own unique way. And there's nothing wrong with that, Chakotay."_

"_B'Elanna says that I was making a fool of myself."_

"_B'Elanna's wrong. I didn't think that."_

_He raised his head and leveled his gaze at her. "What did you think?"_

_Kathryn didn't meet his gaze; instead, she looked down into the coffee cup she held in her hands. They'd switched from cider to coffee over an hour ago. Maybe she needed the cider back. "I thought… I think… like most people… you were looking for a chance at happiness, a chance to… share your life with another person…" She looked up at him, locked her eyes with his. "That doesn't make you a fool, Chakotay. Just human."_

"_And what about you?"_

"_What about me?"_

"_Are you looking for those chances?"_

_She stared back down at the coffee cup, then took a sip. It was getting cold. With a sigh, she reached over and set the cup on the edge of the table. "Someday," she answered, looking back up at him. "Someday soon."_

_And he nodded. It was enough of an answer for now._

_A little while later, she walked him to the door, and he kissed her cheek before he left. "I've missed this, Kathryn." A confession. A question. A request for absolution._

"_I've missed this, too." A truth._

After that evening, things started to change. A little. Or rather, they went back to the way they used to be – in the Delta Quadrant. Almost. They met each other once a week for lunch, had the occasional dinner together, even went to a play one night. Since they were both busy with their new positions, it wasn't as easy as it had been on _Voyager_. And Kathryn had to be off world a lot. But still… Things changed. For the better. And even though their days were hectic, they found time to call each other, almost every night, just to talk. Like they used to. It was nice, comfortable – it was what best friends did.

"K-Kathryn?"

The voice pulled her back to the present, and she blinked, looked down. His eyes were half open, and he was reaching towards her with his left hand, an unconscious movement, but promising. She wrapped her hand around his.

"Hey, I thought you were asleep." She reached up with her other hand and rubbed her thumb over the left corner of his lower lip, dried the slight wetness.

This time, he didn't resist. Just sighed and pressed his face into her touch. "M-missed you," he breathed.

"I missed you, too."

~vVv~

The nursing staff had placed the cot in the corner of the room. Kathryn sat on the edge of it, thinking about sleeping. Chakotay had kept his eyes open for all of two minutes before he'd fallen back to sleep, and it seemed like a good idea. There was only one problem. The cot was too far away.

She knew she was being ridiculous – and she knew that she couldn't move the cot any closer to his bed – it would be in the way of the nurses when they came to check on him. And she couldn't sleep in the chair, not after they'd so graciously brought in the cot for her. So she did the only thing she could do – she lay down, verbally dimmed the lights, and closed her eyes.

In the silence, she could hear him breathing.

And she realized she was close enough.

~vVv~

The sudden sound of his voice was loud in the room – rough and raw. It pulled her awake and over to his bed in an instant.

"Chakotay?" She whispered, pressing her hands to his shoulders.

His head tossed on the pillow.

"Nuh.. No… No…" he groaned, his right arm coming up and pushing at her, his legs moving beneath the blankets.

"Chakotay?" She said it louder, but still he didn't wake.

His movements grew stronger, increased in intensity.

"Nuh… Kath… No…" His upper body pushed up, the right arm swinging wide, legs kicking, the left arm pulling against the IV line. And she was afraid he would dislodge it.

She tried to hold him down as she fumbled for the call button, finding it, pressing it.

And one of the night nurses, Joseph, was there a few seconds later, going to the other side of the bed, placing his hands next to Kathryn's. "Chakotay," he said his name firmly, trying to wake him.

Still he struggled, rearing up, lashing out, his whole body pulling up from the mattress, twisting under their grasp. Kathryn was afraid he would fall out of the bed.

"No… Don't… Nuh…"

The cries tore at her, and she looked over at Joseph.

The nurse pulled one hand away from him and reached into his pocket, withdrew a hypospray that he quickly adjusted and pressed to Chakotay's neck.

Within moments, his thrashing eased and his body relaxed back into the bed, his breathing returning to normal.

Joseph stepped back. "I gave him a sedative," he whispered into the sudden silence of the room. "He should sleep through the rest of the night."

Kathryn nodded, trying to slow her own breathing, her hands still resting on Chakotay's shoulders.

"I'd rather not sedate him, but this nightmare looked like it was going to escalate. Sometimes we've been able to talk him through."

He looked over at Kathryn and realized that she was beginning to tremble. He reached over and placed a hand on her arm.

"He's all right now. Come on." He guided her away from the bed and walked her back over to the cot, gently pushed her down to a sitting position, and then knelt beside her. He held his hand to Kathryn's arm until he felt the trembling ease. "Would you like a drink of water?"

Kathryn shook her head, drew in a deep breath, held it, released it slowly. She looked up at Jospeh. "No, thank you, I'm fine. I just…

"I know." Joseph squeezed her arm reassuringly. "Try to get some sleep. I'll be in throughout the night, but if you need anything…"

"I'll call."

~vVv~


	9. Chapter 9

He loved to watch her sleep. Not as much as he loved to watch her drink coffee, but sleeping came in a close second, followed by everything else she did.

He was relieved that he could see her from where he lay on the bed, relieved that she was there in the corner of the room – wished that she were closer, but content to watch her from any distance.

She lay with her face turned toward him, her hair fanned out on the pillow around her. In the dim morning light that filtered through the window, he could see the strands of red, and brown, and gold – and even a few strands of grey. His fingers ached to touch her, run through the softness, light upon the silk of her cheek. For several long minutes, he let his eyes do what his hands couldn't – he drank her in and held her close.

And he sighed. _You've got it bad, Old Man, _he thought to himself, his own inner voice having adopted B'Elanna's nickname years ago. _You've always had it bad, for a long time._ From the moment he'd stood face to face with her on _Voyager's_ bridge – Maquis and Starfleet – bristling under each other's gaze, he'd felt that connection, that… thread that stitched them together and pulled them apart all at the same time.

Through the years, that thread had worn – had frayed and knotted and stretched. They'd both tested its strength, tugging at it from both ends, giving and taking, and sometimes letting go, only to grab hold of it when they realized that they needed it – needed to be tethered, grounded, connected – to each other.

The images in his mind came hard and fast – destroying the Caretaker, being stranded by the Kazon, encountering the Borg – standing across from each other arguing about Ransom and the _Equinox_, the thread so thin and tight he was sure it would break. And they came soft and slow – sitting in her Ready Room with his medicine bundle unfolded between them, living each moment of every day that they had on New Earth, sharing quiet dinners in her cabin – feeling her hand touching his chest and hearing the words "I can't imagine a day without you," the thread holding them securely in place.

He took a deep breath. And then another, ran his tongue along his lower lip, finding the wetness in the left corner, pushing it across to dampen the dryness on the right. An odd, new habit. Staring up at the ceiling, he tried to center his thoughts and emotions, bring the images into focus. And he grasped desperately at the thread for in that early morning moment, suddenly, nothing seemed real.

He felt a trembling deep in his chest. How in the hell did he wind up here? In a room at Starfleet Medical? A stroke? Him? He'd always thought that he was a fairly healthy man, tried to take care of himself, exercise, eat right. Sure, there were times when he'd packed on a few extra pounds, or turned down a hoverball invitation from B'Elanna. But he never imagined he'd find himself flat on his back on the floor of his office unable to move while the worst pain he'd ever felt ripped through the right side of his head.

Other images came to him now, sharp and edged – seeing the panic in Tom's expression when he found him, hearing unfamiliar voices fading in and out, feeling hands stripping off his clothes and exposing him to the bite of cold air - looking up into the faces of people he didn't know and realizing that he couldn't speak. And those images were replaced by others, warm and comforting – gazing into B'Elanna's eyes while she stroked his cheeks and whispered soft words into his ear, holding on to Tom in the middle of the night while he cradled him in his arms, waking to see Harry quietly sitting there and keeping watch – opening his eyes, finally, and watching the woman he loved sleeping in a chair by his bed.

And he was watching her now as she stretched and moved, her face in shadow, and then in drops of sunlight that fell through the window across the floor and onto the cot. She sighed and groaned softly, making gentle waking up noises. And he was content to watch and listen.

Content to weave the thread through his mind, and heart, and soul. For now, in this early morning moment, everything was real.

~vVv~

They were both awake now, and their day had started.

Kathryn, who had slept in a pair of exercise pants and a t-shirt, had changed into a blue dress and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. And images of New Earth played through Chakotay's mind: exploring the forest, working in the garden, long walks at sunset. Getting to know that other side of Kathryn Janeway.

But she was all business this morning, definitely in captain mode as she sat in the chair by his bed, tapping into the data padd she held, working on "his schedule." He had a distinct feeling that she was making a project out of him.

"All right." She thought out loud as she keyed in the information. "Breakfast at 0800." She pointed a finger at him.

He was already eating: fiber cereal with blueberries and yogurt. Despite his objections, they insisted on giving him a serving of slimy food at almost every meal.

He lifted his spoon in silent acknowledgement of her gesture.

"You're doing very well," she managed before quickly turning her attention back to the data padd. "Occupational therapy at 0900. Speech therapy at 1030. Lunch at noon. Bath at 1300. Physical therapy at 1400." She suddenly hesitated. "Now that doesn't make any sense. Why give you a bath at 1300 and then take you down to physical therapy right after that? You know Scott said that he was going to work you harder today, and you'll probably get sweaty. We need to see about changing this. I'll talk to the nurses. Surely, they'll-"

"Kathryn?"

She looked up, pleased to hear him pronounce her name without hesitation. "What?"

"You're… t-turning m-me into a… project."

And she smiled. "You are a project, Chakotay." She got up from the chair and went over to the bed, sat on the edge of it, ran her fingers along his arm. "You are my project. And you are the most important, precious project that I have right now. And I am going to do everything that I can to-"

"Fix me," he said bluntly.

"I was going to say 'help you recover,' but if you want to put it that way, then yes, I'm going to do everything I can to fix you."

He lowered his gaze, stared down at the breakfast tray. "Makes m-me…s-sound… br-broken."

Instantly, Kathryn touched her fingers to his chin and lifted his face to hers. "Now you listen to me, Commander Chakotay, you are not broken. Dented maybe, but never broken."

"C-commander Chakotay?" He raised his eyebrows, surprised by her use of his rank.

"Well," she tossed her hand into the air in mock exasperation, "if you had more names – like Thomas Eugene Paris – I could give you a proper dressing down. As it is, I have to make do with what I have."

He nodded, his lips pursed, and then he gave her one of his best dimpled grins. If he were going to be anyone's project, he wanted to be hers.

~vVv~

And his occupational therapist's, he realized fifteen minutes later when he met her.

She reached out and shook his hand. "I'm Taryn Dalton, Commander. You and I are going to become very good friends, so if it's all right, I'm going to call you Chakotay."

He looked up at the fresh-faced young woman. She looked to be in her early thirties with hair redder than Kathryn's, green eyes, and a healthy smattering of freckles over fair cheeks.

"Cha…kotay's fine."

"Good."

She leaned over and greeted Kathryn, who was seated on the opposite edge of the bed. "And I know who you are, Captain Janeway. Jack Hampton is a friend of mine. I hope you don't mind if I call you Kathryn. The three of us are going to be working closely together."

"Of course not. Kathryn will be fine." She smiled at the younger woman. "You look like you could be Jack's sister."

Taryn grinned. "We get that all the time. I actually look more like his sister than his sister does. His wife and I were friends first. We went to college together. But I've known Jack ever since he and Sally started dating."

"He is the best assistant," Kathryn offered. "I think I'd be lost without him."

"For someone who found her way back from the Delta Quadrant, I seriously doubt that," Taryn laughed as she sat down in the chair next to the bed and focused her gaze back on Chakotay. "Now before we begin, I'd like to outline what an occupational therapist does. We're sort of a 'jack-of-all-trades' when it comes to therapy. I'll work with any cognitive, behavioral, or perceptual changes that may have been caused by your stroke. For instance, you may have some difficulty with your memory, identifying common everyday objects or recognizing friends and family. You're probably experiencing a lot of emotions right now, frustration, anger – I can help you deal with those. I'm also going to work on your left arm and hand to help you improve your motor control. You're going to need it in order to address self-help skills: eating, dressing, bathing, toileting." She saw his eyes drop. "Like I said, we're going to become good friends fast." She looked over at Kathryn. "I know you were here all day yesterday, and you're staying with Chakotay at night. I need to ask… Are the two of you in a committed relationship?"

Chakotay glanced up quickly at Kathryn, and he smiled when she answered immediately, without blinking an eye. "Yes." And then she gazed at him for several moments before she continued. "We've been in a relationship for a long time, but it's just… recently taken a more… committed direction."

Taryn nodded. "That's good. A lot of the skills that I work on will be skills that you may need to assist him with as well. Especially in the beginning." She smiled over at Chakotay. "Our goal, of course, is to get you back to full independence." She reached over and picked up a data tablet that she'd brought with her. "Now, this morning I'm going to work on some memory and recognition skills. Over the next few days, we'll cover other areas. I've talked to Scott and he's told me that you have a fair amount of control in your left arm. Physical therapy is going to make that better, and that's going to make our work easier. I've also been told that they're going to take that catheter out today."

Chakotay looked down again, his cheeks growing hot and flushed.

"Try not to be embarrassed. I know it's difficult. But I'm going to be working with you on toileting routines, bathing, and dressing, and we're going to have to be able to talk about some personal needs." He looked up at that, his mind suddenly registering other needs. And Taryn instantly sensed his concerns. "Strokes rarely cause sexual dysfunction, so let's not start worrying about that right now."

The look of relief on Chakotay's face was so evident that Kathryn didn't know whether to laugh or cry. She did reach over and take hold of his hand, causing him to look at her, and sigh, close his eyes for a few moments. It was a lot to take in all at once.

Taryn patted him on the arm, drawing his attention back to her. "I know it seems overwhelming, but we'll take it a step at a time, Chakotay. Let's start by seeing how many objects you can identify."

And she held up the data tablet and began by showing him a series of pictures and asking him to verbally identify them. They were grouped into categories: colors, numbers, letters, animals, food, words… He stumbled over some of the images, identifying them incorrectly at first, but usually getting them correct on the second try. Only a few images evaded him completely.

"Chances of you needing to identify a rhinoceros are slim, Chakotay," Kathryn chuckled at one point, trying to diffuse a bit of tension. Luckily, he laughed along with her in agreement.

By the end of the session, Taryn was pleased with the results. "You've got some slight identification problems, but nothing severe. I think your memory will clear up just fine over the next few days. Although lapses could occur, I don't think they'll hinder your ability to function." She looked over at Kathryn. "Could you bring in some of Chakotay's clothes? Off-duty clothing, uniform, pajamas, pants, shirts, underwear. Items with buttons, and zippers, and hooks. Slip-on shoes and shoes that tie." She glanced back at him. "Unless you want to go through the rest of your life in a hospital gown?"

He shook his head.

"I didn't think so." She focused on Kathryn again. "If you could get those by tomorrow, then we can start working on some basic dressing skills."

"I can get them," she assured.

"Thanks." Taryn stood up and gathered her belongings. "I'll see both of you tomorrow."

And she was gone, leaving two somewhat shell-shocked Starfleet officers in her wake.

Kathryn was the first to speak. "How are you doing?" She was still sitting next to him on the bed, still holding his hand in hers.

Chakotay took in a breath, let it out. Gave her a dismissive grin. "I'm… all right."

Kathryn narrowed her eyes at him, knowing better.

And he sighed. "I'm… scared."

She squeezed his hand. "I'm here."

Chakotay laughed softly. "I think… that's wh-why I'm scared."

She gave him a puzzled expression.

"B-bathing… dressing... Kathryn, I…"

And she knew. She understood. But she accepted.

And she needed him to know, understand, and accept.

She let go of his hand and placed both of her palms against his cheeks, looked deeply into his eyes, held him when he tried to turn away.

"I love you, Chakotay. And there is not anything I wouldn't do for you. You just have to let me."

She could feel him holding his breath, feel him taking her words and turning them over in his mind.

"Can you do that?"

And he let the breath go. "Yes."

~vVv~


	10. Chapter 10

His speech therapy session went well. At the end, Grace proclaimed that he'd shown marked improvement in just the past twenty-four hours. Kathryn didn't need her announcement to know that; she could hear it. The more he talked, the less hesitant he was. Certain letters, like B, P, and W, still gave him difficulty, but overall his ability to communicate had improved.

After Grace left, Sam Harrow and the Doctor came by.

"I'm getting good reports on you," Sam said as he stood at the end of the bed scrolling through the medical data padd. "The initial assessment results look positive, and I'm not concerned about the possibility of further strokes. You had a hemorrhagic stroke which was caused by an aneurysm, but we were able to stop the blood flow and clip that area, so there won't be any more blood loss."

"What caused this?" Kathryn asked, looking at Sam and then shifting her gaze to the Doctor. "Could it have stemmed from any of the injuries he sustained while on _Voyager_?" She hated to recall the number of times Chakotay had suffered neural trauma.

The Doctor shook his head. "It's highly unlikely. And none of the tests we've run indicate that possibility. While the commander was prone to head injuries of one kind or another during our time in the Delta Quadrant, this seems to be a separate isolated incident."

"Other than the aneurysm itself, which we've dealt with successfully, Chakotay is healthy," Sam added.

And Kathryn gave a sigh of relief. "So we don't have to worry about high blood pressure, or stress levels, or-"

"On the contrary, Captain," the Doctor disagreed, "one must always be concerned about blood pressure and stress. My experience on _Voyager_ only served to reinforce the fact that the majority of the crew did not effectively deal with stress, and often, unnecessarily, left themselves open to highly stressful situations. And may I remind you, Captain, that you were one of the worst offenders."

Kathryn lowered her gaze. "Well, yes, Doctor, I know, but…" She looked up, trying to appear properly chastised, but resisting the urge to laugh at his vehemence. She knew he meant well, and she had missed seeing him on a daily basis.

Sam, who was also trying to suppress his laughter, came to her rescue and addressed her concerns. "Chakotay doesn't have high blood pressure, and as of right now, his stress levels fall within the normal range. Of course," he glanced at the Doctor, "we do want to keep an eye on the situation. He's going to be dealing with a lot of potential stressors during his recovery period."

Chakotay looked from Sam to the Doctor to Kathryn and back to Sam. There seemed to be a lull in the conversation. He ventured a question. "W-will... I need… any m-medication?"

Sam shook his head. "No. In fact, we're going to be removing this IV in just a little while. The nurses report that you're eating and drinking just fine. We'll also remove the catheter."

Chakotay's sigh of relief was audible.

Sam laughed. "I always get that reaction whenever I make that statement."

Kathryn didn't want to embarrass Chakotay, but she had some concerns. She turned her gaze back to Sam. "One of his nurses mentioned the possibility of incontinence."

"It is a possibility." Sam shifted his focus to Chakotay. "But if you do experience any problems, they're rarely permanent. You'll have a urinal close by, and we'll put you on a schedule. And we'll keep that schedule once you're back up on your feet. With your initial assessment levels and the improvement you've shown already, I don't foresee any critical problems."

Chakotay nodded. He appreciated Sam's straightforward approach. As much as he appreciated Kathryn's. He reached over and took hold of her hand, gave it a squeeze.

"So," Sam said, "I hear you have a busy afternoon planned. It's about time we get you up out of that bed." He reached over and patted Kathryn on the arm. "I trust you to keep an eye on him."

And she smiled. "Always."

~vVv~

"Commander, I'm about to make you a very happy man," Beth announced when she came into the room ten minutes later.

Kathryn looked up from her data padd in time to see a somewhat embarrassed, but broad, smile crease Chakotay's face. She couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, with an intro like that, I think I'd better make an exit. Give you two some privacy." She'd noticed the items Beth had brought with her: urinal, bedpan, mattress pads. "Besides, I need to check in with my office and then call B'Elanna. See what time she's coming."

She got up and went over to the bed, leaned over to deliver a quick kiss to his cheek, and then whispered in his ear. "You'll be more comfortable if I'm not here."

And he nodded, a look of relief lighting his eyes.

Knowledge, understanding, and acceptance went both ways.

After their earlier conversation, Kathryn knew that he would let her do anything for him. But she also knew that there were some things he needed to do for himself.

~vVv~

As she was leaving the room, B'Elanna was coming in, and Kathryn put up a hand to stop her. "They're unhooking him," she said bluntly, knowing that B'Elanna would understand.

She did. "Oh, thank Kahless, one more day, and I swear he was going to pull that damn thing out on his own."

And although there was nothing humorous about the actual situation, Kathryn threw her head back and laughed. Leave it up to B'Elanna to finally acknowledge the elephant in the room.

He'd never complained to either of them, but they knew he was uncomfortable. On several occasions, they'd both noticed him pushing at his groin, trying to adjust himself through the blankets. Sometimes he seemed to do it surreptitiously, hoping that no one was looking. And at other times, his hand seemed to have a mind of its own, reaching down under the covers and handling himself regardless of who was there. He was a private man, but creature comforts were difficult to ignore.

"Oh," Kathryn sighed, "I don't know if he's going to like the alternative any better, but hopefully it will be more comfortable for him." She pointed toward the end of the hall. "I was just about to go to the cafeteria for a cup of coffee. Would you like to join me?"

B'Elanna nodded, and fell into step beside her. "I'm sorry I didn't get here earlier. I've had… quite a morning. I think Miral's starting to teethe, and she was in a terrible mood – ear-splitting cries. I had to get her calmed down before I could even dream of leaving her with Tom's mother."

"Teething? So soon?" Kathryn reached out and pressed the turbolift call button.

"Klingon babies start teething sooner than Human babies," B'Elanna explained. "If she were full Klingon, instead of only a fourth, she'd probably have several teeth already."

"Umm, I'm sure that's why I don't see a lot of Klingon mothers breastfeeding." The lift door opened and they stepped inside. "First floor," Kathryn intoned.

"You know, I'm not sure how long Klingon mothers breastfeed, but we're sort of doing both right now. Tom enjoys giving her a bottle, and it makes it easier to leave her with Grandma and Grandpa."

Kathryn smiled at her words. She loved the image of Admiral Owen Paris as Grandpa.

The doors slid open, and they exited the lift. "How is life with the grandparents?"

"Well, life with the grandparents is a lot better now that we're actually no longer with the grandparents." They'd lived with them for the first three months after their return from the Delta Quadrant. "Don't get me wrong; we actually get along really well, but it's nice to have our own place."

They arrived at one of the cafeteria's replicators, and Kathryn keyed in their order and her debit code. Two steaming cups of coffee appeared. She handed a cup to B'Elanna and they went over and found a table by the window.

They sat in silence, each blowing into their cups, inhaling, and then taking deep satisfying sips. A minute passed, and then two.

Finally, B'Elanna looked across the table. "What's next for him?"

Kathryn let out a long breath. "Funny you should ask…"

B'Elanna gave her a puzzled expression.

And Kathryn shook her head. "No, it's just… He had his first session with his occupational therapist this morning, and it just seems… a bit overwhelming. We're so… used to living our lives, and so busy living… we don't really stop and think about _how we live our lives_. And that's what he's going to have to do. Look at every aspect of everyday living and break it down into separate steps… bathing, dressing, going to the bathroom." She ticked off each item on her fingers. "Once he's stronger, and he has more control of his left side, it'll be easier. But he can't just sit and wait for that to happen. It's doing all of these things that's going to make him stronger."

B'Elanna reached out and placed her hand on Kathryn's. "Don't forget, he's one stubborn, strong man to begin with."

And Kathryn relaxed at her touch and at her words. "I know." She looked down into the dark liquid in her cup, and the image came to her as it often did – sharp and clear. "You know, how we have some memories that exist like dreams – soft and sort of… blurry around the edges. And others are so… crisp and real… and you can see them, as plainly as you could the first time. I can't tell you how many times I see him in my mind, standing on _Voyager's_ bridge just after he beamed over from the _Val Jean_… bristling, defensive… mad as hell. And that expression on his face… so hard… and so hurt…."

"The Angry Warrior," B'Elanna breathed.

And Kathryn lowered her eyes in agreement. "The Angry Warrior."

It was an image that B'Elanna also carried with her – not the one of him on the bridge – she hadn't been there – but all the others – that angry Maquis warrior who recruited her into the fold, into the fight… and into his heart. She realized, not for the first time, that following that bristling, defensive, mad as hell Maquis had led her into a life that she would have never had… a life she couldn't imagine not having.

She squeezed the older woman's hand. "Like I said, Kathryn, stubborn and strong."

~vVv~

A half hour later, they returned to his room to find their Angry Warrior a little less angry.

Kathryn took note of the plastic urinal hanging on the side of his bed, as well as the relieved expression on his face. "I assume that Beth is now your favorite nurse," she surmised.

"She has… c-certain skills," Chakotay acknowledged with a contented smile.

"Well, good," B'Elanna rolled her eyes, "maybe now you can stop pawing yourself."

Chakotay glanced down, pursed his lips, then looked back up with a half grin on his face. "Wh-what do… you know?"

She shot him a hard glare. "I gave birth."

And Kathryn sighed as they started in on each other, doing that thing they did – poking, needling, one-upping - that thing she loved to watch them do. But as much as she loved to watch it, she realized that she hadn't contacted her office, so she moved to the communications console in the entry area and left them to poke, needle, and one-up without her.

As always, Jack greeted her with a smile on his face. "I heard you met my 'adopted sister.'"

"I did. She's as organized as you are, and just as good at what she does. It must run in your 'adopted family.'"

"Thanks for the compliment," he laughed. "Our 'adopted parents' will be proud to hear that." But then his face grew serious. "Taryn really is good at what she does, Captain. Commander Chakotay couldn't be in better hands."

"I know. Thank you." And then they spent the next five minutes discussing Kathryn's notes from the conference on Vulcan.

As they were talking, one of the nurses delivered Chakotay's lunch, so after she signed off with Jack and returned to the main part of the room, he was eating.

"S-soup… again," he complained, navigating a spoonful to his mouth under B'Elanna's watchful gaze.

"What kind?" Kathryn immediately queried, although she could see that it was tomato.

He paused, the spoon mere inches from his mouth. "B-B'Elanna… already asked."

Kathryn gave the younger woman a questioning glance.

She shrugged. "Got it on the first try. The old man knows his soups."

And Chakotay gave them a dimpled grin before he stuck the spoon in his mouth and swallowed.

B'Elanna shook her head at his expression. He could be so damn cocky at times. But it was good to see him like this; his confidence was improving. Now might be the time to push him a little more. "Let's see how many people you know," she added, getting up and going over to the entry area. She returned with the computer and positioned it on the tray table beside his soup bowl.

He watched her warily as she keyed into her personal messages account.

"I've put together some images from _Voyager_ – friends, crew – you name them for me."

Chakotay heard the open challenge in B'Elanna's voice; he glanced over at Kathryn and saw that challenge mirrored in her eyes. He nodded and set the spoon down. "All right," he responded, meeting the challenge.

"Tuvok," he identified the first image, and then, "Tom," when the next appeared, followed by "N-Neelix." But he hesitated on the fourth.

"Who is it?" B'Elanna asked.

Kathryn saw the tension in his face increase, small lines forming around his eyes as they narrowed in concentration. He'd been so sure of the first images, but now… She came closer and sat on the other side of the bed so she could see the monitor. It was Mike Ayala.

"You know him, Chakotay," B'Elanna prompted. "He's a member of Tuvok's security team; he was Maquis."

He pressed his lips together, then caught the lower lip with his teeth, frowning. "He's… umm…" He sighed, shook his head.

Kathryn could feel his frustration growing.

"Name is…" Another sigh, half groan, and he rubbed his hands up over his face.

Kathryn touched his arm. "It's all right," she assured, then glanced at B'Elanna.

"It's Mike. Mike Ayala," B'Elanna supplied.

And Chakotay nodded, squeezed his eyes closed, and then opened them. "M-Mike," he said, as if committing it to memory.

B'Elanna smiled at him, but hesitated, not sure whether to continue or not. How quickly his confidence seemed to falter, his expression no longer cocky but uncertain.

As if reading her mind, Chakotay nudged her hand with his. "Keep… going. I'm fine."

Uncertain, but not unwilling, B'Elanna realized, and as she exhaled a deep breath, she saw a look of relief flood Kathryn's eyes at his words; she'd been unsure as well.

"A few more," Kathryn suggested, "and then you finish lunch."

They viewed six more pictures – he knew half of them, and repeated the names of the ones he couldn't remember.

"We'll work on it again tomorrow," B'Elanna said, as she took the computer back to the entry area.

Kathryn placed her hand on his cheek. "The names will come back to you."

Chakotay nodded, but sensed the lingering tension. They were worried, he could tell. Not worried _about_ him, but worried _for_ him. He could discern the difference. They knew his memory would return; they just weren't sure how he'd handle the journey.

He picked up the spoon, toying with it in his fingers.

Kathryn touched the side of the bowl. "It still feels warm. You should finish eating."

He lifted a spoonful to his mouth, and then shifted his gaze to B'Elanna. "T-tomato – Tom's favorite."

He'd remembered that.

~vVv~


	11. Chapter 11

B'Elanna, who had just started consulting on a project with Starfleet Engineering, left right after he finished eating lunch because she had a meeting at HQ. She assured him she'd be back at dinner. "Face it, Old Man," she dropped a kiss on his forehead, "I spent the first few days watching you sleep. Now my new hobby is watching you eat."

"And… helping m-me… r-remember," he smiled up at her.

Kathryn could tell that he was tired; his speech was slower.

Once B'Elanna was gone, she made a suggestion. "Your physical therapy session doesn't start until 1400 hours. You could take a nap."

And she was surprised when he didn't protest, nodding in agreement instead. And so, she made another suggestion.

"Before you close your eyes, why don't you try this?" She indicated the urinal on the side of his bed. "I'm sure Beth showed you how to use it."

He nodded again. "Hold up… covers, and I can… m-manage."

Kathryn did as he instructed, holding up the blanket and sheet at an angle that allowed him room to use the urinal and have some privacy as well. He fumbled a bit with lifting his gown, and she resisted the urge to help him. If he needed more assistance, he'd ask. But he didn't, and Kathryn let him attend to his own needs. That was the goal. And the soft sigh he issued a few moments later indicated that he'd met this particular goal successfully. She suppressed her laughter, but she couldn't hold back a smile.

He noticed, and sighed again. "Eat… pee… sleep."

And this time, Kathryn had to laugh. Millions of details of everyday living. Leave it up to a man to simplify things.

~vVv~

They repeated the passive range of motion exercises that they'd done the day before, and then transitioned into active range of motion, which required Chakotay to do more moving, and lifting, and pushing, testing his strength and resistance.

"You may have experienced some partial paralysis at first," Scott observed, "but mostly what I'm seeing now is muscular weakness, or what's referred to as hemiparesis. Although you do have some fairly good control. How does it feel?"

Chakotay looked down at his left arm and leg, and thought for a few moments, trying to decide on the right words to describe what he was feeling. "S-slow… and heavy. Like b-being on Terris Prime."

Scott glanced over at Kathryn with a confused expression.

And she smiled. "Terris Prime is a high gravity planet."

Scott nodded in understanding. "Good description, Chakotay. Right now you've got your left foot on Terris Prime. Our goal is to get both feet back on Earth. Starting now. First I'm going to lower this bed so it'll be easier for you to sit on the side." He reached over and touched a control pad, and the bed lowered.

Taking hold of Chakotay's shoulder, he supported him while he removed some of the pillows that were wedged behind his back. "You've been sitting up, but you've had these pillows to support your back. I want to see how you do without them." He dropped them in the chair behind him. "I'm going to let go." He pulled his hand away, and Chakotay maintained his position. "That's good. Now, to use your description, I know that left arm is slow and heavy, but you've got some strength in it, so I want you to brace your hand against the mattress." He reached out and helped him position his left arm and hand. "You're going to use your right hand to help move your left leg over to the side of the bed, and let your right leg swing with it."

Chakotay glanced over at Kathryn. "Twister," he chuckled.

And the image was suddenly there in her mind. One of Tom's holodeck parties – a twentieth century game – big plastic mat with bright circles of color. "Left foot green, right foot blue," she suggested, and couldn't help but laugh at Scott's confusion.

"Starfleet reference?" he ventured.

"Hardly. Just an old Earth game."

Chakotay had managed to move his legs to the side of the bed and his upper body turned with them. He shifted his left hand and then placed the right hand on the other side. He was sitting, unaided, on the edge, both feet flat on the floor. And it felt good. He rested for a moment, realizing that his breath was a bit labored just from sitting up.

Scott rubbed his shoulders. "It'll get easier. Remember, you've been in bed for three days." He let him rest for another minute while he went over to the entry area of the room and returned with a wheelchair. He positioned the chair near the bed and locked the wheel breaks.

He turned back to Chakotay. "All right. We're going to get you standing and then into that chair. After that, well…" He looked over at Kathryn. "It's a beautiful day outside. How about a stroll?"

Kathryn smiled. "That sounds wonderful."

"Okay." Scott stood in front of Chakotay and bent toward him. "Take your right arm and wrap it around my shoulder. Hold tight. You won't hurt me."

Chakotay positioned his arm around Scott.

"Now, on three, I want you to do some things simultaneously: lift with both of your legs, try to push up with your left arm, and pull up hard with your right. Got it."

Chakotay nodded.

"One, two, three."

Lift. Push. Pull.

And he was standing. Scott's arms were around him to help balance him, but he was standing.

"That's it. I've got you. You won't fall. How do you feel?"

Chakotay took a deep breath, let it out slowly, felt the room sway around him. He clutched tighter to Scott's shoulder. "D-dizzy." He focused his eyes on the floor.

"It'll pass."

And it did. Several long moments later, he looked up. The room was solid and steady. And Kathryn's smile was reassuring.

"Standing tall, Commander," she said softly, tears glinting in her eyes.

Scott moved back from him slightly, but allowed Chakotay's arm to stay wrapped around his shoulder. The therapist looked down at his legs, and touched his hand to Chakotay's left hip. "Make sure your putting weight on this leg. There's a tendency to pull away from the weak side, and that will affect your balance." He felt Chakotay shift, distributing his weight more evenly. "That's it."

They stood there for a few more seconds, and then Scott braced his hands on Chakotay's hips. "All right. I want you to turn the right side of your body towards me just a little bit, and we're going to lower you into this wheelchair."

Chakotay moved slowly, took a half step with his right foot, his right arm still tight around the younger man's shoulder. Scott gripped Chakotay's left shoulder, and he helped him sink into the wheelchair. Chakotay exhaled the breath he'd been unconsciously holding and relaxed.

Scott stood back. "Good work. I think you just earned some shore leave."

He covered Chakotay's lap and legs with a small blanket, and then slipped the urinal into a storage bag on the back of the chair. "In case you need it," he explained.

A random thought popped into Chakotay's head, and he laughed. "First rule of s-survival training… s-stay dry."

~vVv~

Scott didn't go with them, claiming that he wanted to stay and aggravate the nurses. But Kathryn knew that he wanted to give them some time alone.

It was another beautiful day – blue sky, white clouds, bright sun. She pushed Chakotay's chair along the walkways that wound through the neatly manicured gardens. Everything seemed to be in bloom.

At first, the glaring light had been too much, and Chakotay had reached up with his right hand and covered his eyes. But his vision had adjusted quickly, and now he had tilted his head, leaning it against the back of the chair and lifting his face to the sunshine.

Like a big cat soaking in the warmth, Kathryn thought as she gazed down at him. She idly rubbed her fingers along the side of his neck, and up over his earlobe, the left one that was flat at the top. Remembered what he'd said once. _"Another family trait – crazy genes and flat ears. Definitely no Vulcan ancestry."_

She felt his head roll toward her, resting against her hand and lower arm. Heard a contented sigh. She grinned. Her cat was purring.

She walked on, enjoying the sun and the silence. But his ear had reminded her of his family, and she knew they needed to talk.

She came to a bench that looked out over the city, steep hills running toward the bay. Positioning his chair beside it, she reached down and locked the wheel breaks, and then sat next to him.

He straightened his head and looked over at her. "Nice day."

She nodded. "Beautiful."

He licked at his lips. "Feels good… to b-be out."

Another nod.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "S-say it." His standard request for her to talk.

"Okay. We need to contact Sekaya, and I haven't brought it up because I know what you're going to say, and I think that-"

"No."

She exhaled a frustrated breath. "That's what I knew you'd say." She rubbed at her eyes with her fingers, ran them down along her cheeks. "B'Elanna said that she hadn't contacted Seven." She saw him wince. "And that's all right for now. You and Seven are no longer in a relationship. But you and Sekaya are. She's your sister. She cares about you. She loves you. She'll want to know."

"N-no… don't w-want to w-worry… her."

His speech, which had been improving noticeably over the past few days, was suddenly hesitant again, halting. _Strong emotions. Family. Dorvan V._ All touchstones that he was sometimes afraid to touch.

"Chakotay…"

He shook his head. "She… c-can't do… anything. Too far…"

"She doesn't have to do anything." She reached over and took hold of his hand, gently rubbed the back of it. "She doesn't have to… fix you." She grinned, hoping to lighten the moment, see him smile.

But his lips were tightened into a thin hard line.

She tried again. "You're my project."

Harder still. No give. Just tension.

"But you're her brother."

He turned his head, and she saw his shoulders slump, the tense cord cut.

She placed her fingers on the back of his neck, where hair met skin – one of her touchstones. And again, in this new existence that they shared, she knew, and understood.

And accepted.

"You don't want her to see you like this."

She felt his head move, shaking, lowering.

He was weak in front of her. In front of Tom, and Harry, and B'Elanna. He couldn't run from that. They were here.

But Sekaya wasn't.

He felt Kathryn stand up behind the chair, lean over him, wrap her arms around his neck. She pressed her head to his, cheek on cheek. And kissed him.

"We can wait. She doesn't have to know yet."

~vVv~

When they returned, Scott helped him back into bed – opposite direction, same movements: arm around his shoulder, hands on hips, feet on floor, butt on bed, legs on mattress, back on pillows, head up, eyes on Kathryn.

Easier this time. But still, what used to be second nature - rolling out of bed, falling into it – took all his effort and concentration.

"We're going to head down to the gym tomorrow," Scott explained as he helped him settle on the bed. He looked over at Kathryn. "Can you get him workout shorts and t-shirts?"

Kathryn nodded. "Sure. I'm going to his place later tonight to get some clothes. Taryn needs them for his occupational therapy."

"Good deal," he grinned, and then squeezed Chakotay's shoulder. "By this time tomorrow, you're gonna be walking."

Chakotay didn't feel quite as convinced as Scott, but he appreciated his confidence, and he gave him a half smile as the younger man left the room. "S-sounds… like a… plan"

"Or a project," Kathryn added leaning closer and kissing his cheek.

Chakotay turned his head and captured her lips, couldn't remember the last time he'd kissed her. Still couldn't believe that it had only been a little over twenty-four hours since the first time.

"I can come back later." The voice came from the doorway.

And they pulled apart, straightened, Kathryn self-consciously rubbing her fingers over her lips, Chakotay shifting against the pillows.

"Sorry to interrupt," Beth said coming into the room pushing the bathing cart, "but I know how important the commander's schedule is." She grinned over at Kathryn.

And both women laughed. Beth had leaned over Kathryn's shoulder that morning and watched as she had made adjustments to Chakotay's schedule on her data padd. Bath: 1600 hours.

"You're right." Kathryn threw her hands up in mock surrender. "A schedule is a schedule." She started to get up from the side of the bed, but Chakotay took hold of her arm.

"Stay." Not a question, and no hesitation.

Kathryn gazed into his eyes. Acceptance.

She looked over to Beth.

"Fine by me," the nurse smiled. "I'll put you to work."

"All right. What can I do?"

Beth came over to the bed. "I'll show you."

During the next fifteen minutes, they worked together to give Chakotay a bath. Beth folded the sheet and blanket to the end of the bed, and then reached under his gown to cover his waist with a towel before removing the gown. Kathryn couldn't help but gaze down at his body. She'd seen it before. They'd gone swimming together on New Earth and on the holodeck. And she'd been with him in Sickbay more times than she cared to remember.

But this was different.

It was an initiation of sorts. His way of showing her that he was strong enough to let her truly take care of him. To see him at his weakest – open, vulnerable. Acceptance in practice, not just in theory.

Beth handed her a warm wet cloth. "I'll handle the legs and big feet," she offered with a smile, "and you can take the shoulders and chest."

Kathryn nodded, and moved towards the head of the bed. Chakotay, who hadn't said a word through all of their preparation, watched her, his eyes fastened to hers. She picked up his right arm, and starting at the point where his neck met his collarbone, she ran the cloth along his skin, over his shoulder, and down the muscles to his hand. He sighed and closed his eyes.

And she continued with her motions, falling into a steady rhythm, a gentle pressure. And her big cat returned, relaxing under her touch. She could almost hear a rumbling beneath his ribs as she rubbed the cloth across his chest, his breathing growing deep and even.

She felt Beth next to her, heard her quiet whisper. "He fell asleep during his bath yesterday."

And the cat growled. "Did… not."

Kathryn laughed softly, gently washing lower across his stomach. She glanced back at Beth. "The commander doesn't sleep. He just rests his eyes."

~vVv~

When they were done, and the nurse had left, Kathryn sat on the edge of his bed. She felt closer to him, more connected, as if the act of bathing his body had somehow given her… ownership. This man was hers.

She remembered, so long ago, when Chakotay had commandeered a shuttle and taken off after the Kazon in search of Seska and _Voyager's_ stolen technology. B'Elanna had come to her ready room to defend him – to explain how he had been in love with Seska and then been humiliated by her. B'Elanna had come to speak on his behalf – to tell how he felt it was his responsibility to protect them from a dangerous situation that he had created. And B'Elanna had come because she loved him - this proud, private man who wouldn't have told her any of this himself.

That had been at the beginning of their journey. And through the years, this proud, private man had opened his heart and soul to Kathryn Janeway. He had given her a gift.

"Thank you," she sighed, rubbing her fingers along his arm, soft skin and hard muscle.

"For what?"

"For letting me in."

~vVv~


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! I really appreciate the reviews!

"I'm just saying there's no reason to pay for daycare when my mother is willing to do it for free!"

Tom's voice, which entered the room before he did, was followed closely by B'Elanna's.

"But now that I'm going back to work, we can't impose on her every day."

"It's not an imposition," Tom returned. "Trust me. If it were, my mother would let us know." They came in and he looked over at Kathryn. "What do you think? B'Elanna wants us to pay for daycare when my mother is more than willing to watch Miral on a regular basis."

Something told her to stay out of this, and yet, she replied anyway. "Any woman who can successfully raise Captain Proton should be able to handle a four-month-old baby." She heard a snort of laughter from Chakotay and saw B'Elanna raise her eyebrows at her, ready to disagree. She held up her hand towards the younger woman. "But, B'Elanna may be right, Tom. I'm sure your mother loves Miral, but every day, all day?"

"See," B'Elanna steadied her gaze back on her husband, "this is a 'man thing.' You just assume that your mother will want to devote her days to taking care of her granddaughter, but that's not being fair to her. She may not be actively involved in a career any longer, but she has a life – and it doesn't need to revolve around an infant."

Tom reached out and took hold of B'Elanna's hands, which she'd been actively using to punctuate her words. "Truce?" he offered.

"Truce?" She eyed him warily.

"Just to talk about this later. Although," he eyed the other occupants in the room, "I'm sure Kathryn and Chakotay find us utterly amusing, I say we should let this rest for now."

She sighed, looked down, then back up at Kathryn and Chakotay. "Sorry." She went over to the bed and planted a kiss on Chakotay's forehead. "How's your day been, Old Man?"

He grinned. "B-better… than yours."

"Probably." She sank down on the edge of his bed. "My meeting lasted over three hours, and I still don't think we accomplished anything. Everyone talks at once, and no one really listens. I don't see how Starfleet Engineering gets anything done."

Chakotay reached out and squeezed her arm with his left hand. "Maybe you should… b-break some noses."

B'Elanna looked down. His use of his left hand hadn't gone unnoticed. She smiled. "Maybe one of your mean left jabs could help."

He gave her a full dimpled grin. "W-working on it."

Tom, who had sat down in the chair by the bed, lifted his legs and propped his feet on the end of the bed. He leaned his head back. "You'll be sparring before you know it, Chakotay."

Kathryn came and stood at the end of the bed. "Let's take one step at a time, Tom." She cast a loving glance at Chakotay. _One fight at a time_, she thought. "But, speaking of sparring, I do need to go to his apartment and get some workout clothes. If you could keep him company for a while?"

Tom took a data rod out of his pocket. "Oh, I was planning on staying the evening. I've brought us a movie – twentieth century classic."

Chakotay and B'Elanna exchanged glances. "Just humor him," she sighed. "It's easier that way."

~vVv~

Kathryn stood in the middle of his apartment. She'd been here before, several times over the last few months, and she still couldn't believe that he lived here. There was nothing that reminded her of him. And that wasn't like Chakotay – the man who had once turned a plain grey box into a very warm, comfortable home with personal touches that she at first resisted, and then had grown to love.

He hadn't done that here.

She'd half teased him about a month ago, saying that he was living in a sterile, cookie-cutter environment. No artwork, no bookshelves, no collectibles. Just clean, uncluttered lines – not displeasing, but not unique. And definitely not Chakotay. He'd only laughed and said that he was too busy to decorate, and besides, he said he spent so little time there, it didn't really matter. There was more. Kathryn could tell. But he hadn't been forthcoming, and she hadn't pressed.

But now, standing there in the half light, she looked around and wondered again. Where was he? And who was he within these walls? His office on _Voyager_ had said more about him than this apartment did. She had come back to San Francisco and gone overboard on making her townhouse a home – filling every corner with the things she loved. But Chakotay's apartment didn't seem to be filled with anything. And without him here, it seemed even emptier.

She moved through the living room to his bedroom, stepped inside. She'd never been in this room, had glimpsed it through the open doorway, but never ventured farther. It, too, seemed bland: a bed, a dresser, a chair, another door leading, she assumed, to the bathroom and closet. There was so little decoration that the few things that were there seemed to jump out at her – picture frames, two on the dresser and one on the bedside table. She went to the dresser first, immediately recognizing the first image – a group picture, taken by the Doctor, of all of them in the mess hall: she was seated next to Neelix, who held a bottle of champagne, her glass raised in a toast; Seven and Tuvok stood to her left, the Doctor to her far right; behind her, Chakotay rested his hand on Harry's shoulder; and beside him, Tom stood with his arms wrapped around B'Elanna. The other picture was Sekaya and her family – her husband,Koham, and Chakotay's nephew, Paka, and his niece, Calusa. Kathryn smiled when she thought about the adoring look on Chakotay's face when he talked about Paka and Calusa. He'd spent a week on Dorvan V after all the debriefings had concluded – not long, but long enough to bond with the children, long enough to visit with his sister and brother-in-law, and long enough to miss them even more now that he was back. Maybe, when he was better, she could talk him into another visit.

So this room held a little something that helped to define who he was – pictures of family, both his _Voyager_ family and his flesh and blood family.

And she was more curious now about the picture on his bedside table – if he kept family on the dresser, who did he keep next to his pillow?

She went over and sat on the edge of his bed, knew the image even as her hand reached to pick up the frame – knew it very well – it was the same one she kept on her own bedside table, beside her own pillow. The one she saw each night before she closed her eyes.

She wasn't sure who had taken it. Samantha Wildman maybe. It was also in the mess hall. But it was the night of the Prixin celebration. The two of them together. She was wearing a cream-colored blouse, open at the top. And Chakotay had on a blue shirt, brown vest, and tan jacket. Neither of them was smiling; it hadn't been a posed shot. But they were together, relaxed, casual. Content.

She ran a finger over the picture, touching his image. He was standing to the left of her. And she remembered other pictures, other times – on the bridge, a luau on the holodeck, striding out of her Ready Room on their way to a moonlit sale on Lake George. He was always there – just to her left.

She set the picture back on the bedside table and went into the closet in the bathroom to find the small suitcase he'd told her about. She scanned his hanging clothes and took his uniform and a blue and white striped shirt that buttoned up the front. She draped the clothing over one arm, picked up the suitcase, and went back into the bedroom. She laid the clothes and the open suitcase on the bed.

She went to the dresser to retrieve the other items. But she hesitated. It hadn't felt that invasive taking hanging clothes off a rack, but going through someone's dresser drawers seemed very private. Sure, pants and shirts and socks didn't seem overly personal, but underwear? Well, it would answer that question. Was Chakotay a boxers or briefs man? Or both, as was the case when she opened his top drawer: an assortment of plaid boxers, black briefs, and grey boxer briefs. She took one of each kind. And then moved into the other drawers, taking pants, sweats, pajamas, t-shirts, and socks.

She carried them all over to the bed and began folding and placing the items in the suitcase. When it was full, she went back into the closet, and found another small soft-sided bag to put his boots and running shoes in. On her way back to the bed to grab the suitcase, she stopped. Opening the suitcase again, she retrieved the picture from the bedside table, and placed it on top of the clothes.

Even a hospital room could do with a little personal touch.

~vVv~

It was like walking in on a slumber party. Tom was still slouched in the chair with his feet up. B'Elanna was draped, half sitting half lying, over the end of Chakotay's bed. And Harry had made himself comfortable on her cot. Although when he saw her, he jumped up to a sitting position, back ramrod straight.

"At ease, Harry," she laughed, always remembering the first time she'd said those words to him.

He smiled. "Yes, Captain."

After setting the bags in the cabinet, she pulled the extra chair closer to the bed and sat down next to Tom. She looked up at the vid screen. "_Gone with the Wind_?"

Tom didn't take his eyes off the screen. He just nodded. "They're about to burn Atlanta."

"Couldn't you find something a little more uplifting and a little less long? Isn't this a four-hour movie?"

"Two hundred and thirty-eight minutes," he confirmed.

Kathryn shook her head and looked over at Chakotay. He was focused on the screen as well, and he seemed to be enjoying the movie.

_Oh, well,_ she thought, _if you can't beat them…_ So she settled back and watched Atlanta burn.

At least until 2100 hours when she looked over and saw Chakotay yawning. And then noticed that B'Elanna looked like she was asleep with her head on Chakotay's leg. And Harry had reclined on her cot again. And even Tom's eyes looked a bit glazed.

As captain, she decided it was time to bring this particular slumber party to a close. "All right," she announced getting to her feet, "I think we'll have to finish this another time."

B'Elanna's eyes snapped open and she looked surprised to find herself in the position she was in. She sat up quickly and rubbed a hand over her face. Harry was already on his feet. And Tom was turning off the vid screen and retrieving the data rod. "Good stopping point anyway. How about the rest tomorrow night? I'll bring popcorn."

"S-sounds good." Chakotay agreed, trying to suppress another yawn, but failing.

"Stop it, Old Man," B'Elanna sighed. "You'll get me started." But it was too late, and she yawned and stretched as she got up from the bed. Patting his leg, she promised to see him tomorrow.

And they all said their goodbyes and left.

Kathryn went and sat on the edge of his bed. "What does one do when the children go to bed?" she asked, smiling softly.

"I know… wh-what this one does." And he pulled her close and kissed her.

~vVv~

She fell asleep on his shoulder. She wasn't sure when. Sometime between kissing him and not kissing him, and before the nurse shook her awake at 2230 hours.

"I hate to disturb you," Melissa said quietly, trying not to wake Chakotay, "but your back will thank me tomorrow."

Kathryn sat up and ran a hand over her face, looked over at Chakotay. He was sleeping, head back on the pillow, mouth slightly open, soft, even breaths.

She rolled her shoulders and returned her gaze to the nurse. "My neck and shoulders will thank you as well," she said as a yawn caught her by surprise. "I guess I'm more tired than I realize."

She got up from the bed and walked over to the cot, Melissa beside her. "You have to take care of yourself, Captain."

She raised an eyebrow at her. "Kathryn," she reminded.

Melissa smiled. "Kathryn." She sat down on the cot next to her. "You need to sleep when he does." She knew that she'd been awake off and on during the previous night, in between Chakotay's nightmares, working on the computer console, trying to keep up with briefings and reports. "You may not be doing a lot of physical work, but emotionally, it can be very draining." She hesitated for a moment. "Tomorrow, a counselor's going to be meeting with Commander Chakotay. You may want to talk with him as well."

Kathryn gave her a tired smile. "Family counseling?"

"Something like that." Melissa patted her arm as she stood up. "Think about it."

And Kathryn nodded. "Thanks. I will."

And she would think about it, she decided as she got up and began to change into her sleeping clothes. A lot had happened in the last few days. Despite her many conferences, her job was organized and methodical – rarely any unexpected highs or lows. Interesting work, challenging, not like captaining a starship, but rewarding in its own way. But it was – steady, and orderly, and the past two days had been anything but.

A stroke. Chakotay. That thought alone still caused her chest to tighten, her heart to beat faster despite the positive prognosis. Every time she looked at him, really looked at him, lying in that bed, she felt a sudden helpless feeling rising inside her – that realization that she could have lost him, and in losing him, that knowledge that she would have lost her best friend, the man she loved, and the other half of her soul.

Her soul mate. Was that what Chakotay was? She'd never really thought about the term – not until she'd met him. It wasn't a feeling she'd had for Mark. Oh, she'd loved Mark, cared for him, enjoyed being with him. And he'd made her feel special. But a soul mate? No. The connection was different – more on the surface – more like some sort of formal protocol – this was the way things were done, the way you dated, the way you loved, the way you went about your daily life.

Now, she knew better. With Chakotay, there were no protocols, except for the damned ones that had kept them apart for so long. She didn't want to think about the _way_ things were done anymore – she just wanted to do them. To love him, and need him, and go about her daily life with him being a part of it.

And she could have lost that. Lost him. And that frightened her more than anything.

Yes, it would be a good idea to talk with someone, she decided as she pulled off her dress and bra, and pulled on the loose fitting pants and t-shirt. Someone who could take all these new feelings and fears and help her fit them into her steady, orderly life.

She heard a heavy sigh, and she looked up and to her right. She'd been dressing with her back to the door in case one of the nursing staff came in, but her position offered a perfect side view for the bed's occupant, who was awake and gazing at her, eyes shining in the half illumination of the room.

Unconsciously, she pulled her t-shirt tighter around her waist, felt the heat rising in her cheeks. "I thought you were… resting your eyes."

A lopsided grin pulled the corners of his mouth into those damn dimples. "Just… enjoying the view."

She covered her face with her hands, and shook her head, feeling his love and desire wash over her even from across the room. She looked back at him. "I have something for you." His eyebrows shot up, and the expression on his face was suddenly hopeful. "Not what you're thinking." His expression fell, and she laughed as she went over to the cabinet, opened the suitcase, and took out the picture that she'd placed there earlier.

She went over to the bed and sat down on the edge, held out the frame. "I thought you might like this."

Chakotay took it with his right hand, stared at it for a moment, a slight look of embarrassment and doubt tracing his features. "I guess… m-my secret's out."

She reached up and touched the hair at his temple, ran her fingers over the soft strands. "I'll keep your secret, if you'll keep mine." He looked back at her expectantly. "I have the same picture on my bedside table."

Relief and understanding filled his eyes, a soft smile replacing the doubt.

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I can't imagine a day without you," she whispered.

~vVv~


	13. Chapter 13

It wasn't so much the sound that woke her as it was the vibration. Not the sudden cry followed by a low groan, not the quick inhalations of breath, not even her name ground out between painful gasps. But the thud of a body hitting the floor.

She was off the cot before her eyes could focus, before she could see him on the floor beside his bed, half sitting, half lying, his back against the side of the mattress, the sheet and blanket hanging over the edge and twisting around his legs.

"Chakotay?" She knelt beside him, her hands going to his shoulders, raising his upper body, lifting him from his bent position.

His head rolled up and back, rested against the bed frame. He was breathing heavily. "K-Kathryn."

She smoothed her hand along the side of his face, felt cold perspiration on his forehead and cheeks. "I'm right here… Are you all right? What happened?"

He swallowed, squeezed his eyes shut, and then opened them. He was looking in her direction, but he wasn't focused on her. She could see that. His gaze seemed to be to the side of her, somewhere past her right shoulder. "B-bath…room."

She glanced back, following the direction of his eyes toward the entry area. "Chakotay, were you trying to get out of bed to go to the bathroom?"

"Huh?" he questioned, confusion clouding his eyes, his face creasing with effort and concentration. He still seemed to be half asleep.

"Let's get you back into bed," Kathryn said, reaching down to straighten the gown that had hiked up around his waist. As she pulled it into place over his hips and upper thighs, she could see a damp spot spreading across the lower part, and she realized that he'd wet himself.

In that instant, he realized it, too, looking down and then back up, his eyes meeting hers. "No…" He pushed her hands away from him. "Get… get Joseph."

"Chakotay." She moved her hands to his upper arms. "Let me help you."

"No!" He reached up and wrapped his right hand around her arm, holding hard, stopping her movements. "Get…Joseph." His voice broke. "Please…" And tears fell onto his cheeks.

In that moment, she ached for him, wanted to pull him close and hold him, but she didn't. She pulled back, and nodded, getting to her feet. She didn't reach for the call button; instead, she went quickly into the hall and found Joseph at the nurse's station, brought him back with her.

And then she stood in the corner of the room watching.

As he lifted him off the floor, Chakotay clutched at Joseph's shoulder, pressing his face into the crook of the man's neck. Kathryn could see now that he was trembling, shaking, not letting go until Joseph laid him back on the bed. The nurse spoke quietly to him, soft, reassuring words, as he checked for injuries, then removed the soiled gown and mattress pad. He dressed Chakotay in a new gown that he got from the cabinet and slipped a dry pad under his hips. Then he changed out the top sheet, and pulled the covers up over him, folding them across his chest.

"Everything's all right," he soothed, pressing a hand against Chakotay's shoulder. "You just get some sleep."

Kathryn saw his eyes close, saw him turn his head on the pillow.

And Joseph stepped over to her, indicating with a slight nod toward the door to join him in the hall.

"Is he all right?" she asked, leaning against the wall, suddenly tired and in need of support.

"He'll be fine."

Kathryn shook her head. "I think he was trying to get to the bathroom. He can't even walk!"

Joseph nodded. "It's not unusual for something like this to happen. Patients who suffer from right-hemisphere strokes can be impulsive, and often are unaware of their physical impairments. Until now, the commander hasn't shown any impulsivity, and he seems to be aware of his limitations when he's awake. But tonight, he probably woke up from a sound sleep, felt the urge to go, and just headed toward the bathroom without even thinking."

Kathryn sighed heavily, and rubbed her hand across the back of her neck. "He could hurt himself. Something like this could happen again."

"It could. But, until we see him acting impulsively during his daily routines, I wouldn't be overly worried." Joseph reached out and squeezed her arm reassuringly. "I have a good feeling about the commander. He's gonna come back from this just fine." And the smile on his dark face was warm and comforting.

"Thank you," Kathryn said softly, appreciating the man's sincerity. She looked back over her shoulder. "I'd better get back to him."

"You just try to get some sleep."

"I will."

She went back into the room. Chakotay hadn't moved. His eyes were still closed, his head still turned.

She thought he was asleep.

She moved closer to the bed, gazed down at him.

She still wanted to hold him, wanted to wrap him in her arms, keep him safe. Keep him from falling…

But she knew that she couldn't always do that for him. She'd always known that. Seven years in the Delta Quadrant had taught her that you couldn't always keep the people you loved safe. And sometimes falling was the only way to go forward.

Movement caused her to look down, and she saw his left hand lifting slowly, reaching toward her. And she grabbed hold of it, looked back up. His eyes were open, and he gave her a soft, tired smile. "I'm… all right." And his fingers closed loosely around hers.

She smiled back, blinking through unshed tears. "I know."

~vVv~

"Dressing 101. First things first. Underwear."

Chakotay, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, visibly paled. And Kathryn laughed from her chair in the corner. He gave her a withering look.

"I can leave," she offered, then shot him a wry grin and added, "but turnabout _is_ fair play." She thought of the night before when he'd watched her putting on her pajamas.

And he seemed to read her mind. "Even," he huffed, and turned his attention back to Taryn.

The occupational therapist sat in the chair across from him, holding a pair of his underwear. "We won't take your gown off until you get these on," she explained. "I wasn't sure about your preference, but boxers are easier, so we'll start with these. Now most people are standing when they put on their underwear, but since you don't have the strength and balance yet, we're going to try an alternate method." She leaned over and placed his feet through the leg openings. "I'll get you started, but then you're going to pull them up and into place." She pulled the boxers up over his calves but stopped at his knees. "You take it from here, Chakotay." She reached out and tapped his left hand. "Brace yourself with this hand, and use your right hand to pull up on the right side."

He followed her directions, bracing with his weaker hand, and pulling with the right. The boxers slid higher on his right thigh.

"Now, try to use the left hand to pull up the other side."

He shifted position slightly, bracing with the right hand and moving his left hand down along his left thigh. He reached the waistband of the boxers, but had difficulty tightening his fingers around the material.

"That's all right." Taryn encouraged. "Reach over with the right hand and try it."

He did, and the boxers rose higher, covering his thighs and meeting the edge of his gown.

"Now, the tricky part. Lean your weight onto your left buttocks and pull the boxers up over your right hip."

With a little balance and effort, he braced his left hand on the bed and was able to pull the underwear into place with his right hand.

"And lean to your right, and pull on the other side." Taryn put her hand on his right shoulder to add some support since he didn't have a spare hand on that side.

And he did it, pulling the blue and green plaid boxers over his left hip and settling the clothing into place under his gown.

He looked up and found Kathryn's unwavering gaze from across the room, and he grinned at her, feeling inordinately proud of something your average three-year-old could do.

"Good work," Taryn praised, standing up and untying the back of his gown, and taking it off. "T-shirt next."

She laid a grey t-shirt over his thighs. "Start by putting your arms in both sides, then lift it up over your head with your right arm. The left arm will come up with it."

Over the next twenty minutes, she guided him into his t-shirt, navy sweatpants, and socks. He was exhausted by the time he'd pulled the white left sock into place.

"Not bad for your first time," Taryn smiled. "Tomorrow we'll work on undressing." She glanced over at Kathryn. "You can help him with this throughout the day." And she focused back on Chakotay. "The gown might be easier, but if you want to sleep in pajamas tonight, try putting them on yourself."

"Oh, he should be fine with putting on pajamas," Kathryn said with a laugh. "He's been studying."

"And I have… a very g-good professor."

~vVv~

Between speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy, and visits from his doctors, Kathryn wasn't sure how they would fit in a counseling session, but they did. Before lunch, a tall, middle-aged man with dark hair and a beard came into the room and introduced himself.

"Commander Chakotay, I'm Paul Darren," he said, first shaking Chakotay's hand and then Kathryn's.

"Kathryn Janeway," she responded, immediately feeling at ease with the man. There was something about his voice and the way he carried himself – quiet, confident, steady. Good qualities for a counselor, she supposed.

He settled into the chair by the bed. "Dealing with a stroke can be difficult, not only for the patient, but for family members as well. Over the next several weeks, I'd like to meet with both of you together and separately," he explained, "but today, I'd like to start with you, Commander."

Kathryn nodded in understanding and leaned over and kissed Chakotay's forehead. "I'll be back later," she promised.

And she knew his eyes were on her as she left the room. But she couldn't do this for him. He needed to talk about what had happened.

When the door closed behind her, Chakotay shifted his gaze to the counselor.

"So, Commander, I'm sure this has been quite a shock for you."

He nodded, not sure what to say. It had been a long time since he'd spoken to a counselor. He wasn't one to share his thoughts and feelings easily.

"According to your medical file, you've been a very healthy man up until now. Of course, I see you've had your share of injuries while on _Voyager_, but as far as illness, this was unexpected."

Another nod. But the man hadn't asked him a question yet, so he had no answers.

"I have to admit, I followed the news of _Voyager's_ disappearance and homecoming quite closely. Absolutely amazing what you and your crew experienced! Seven years – quite an away mission."

Chakotay sighed, not sure where this was headed, but allowing himself to be drawn into the conversation – safe, solid ground. "It was… long."

"And dangerous, I assume."

"At times," he agreed.

"But not always?"

Chakotay pressed his lips together and then gave a slight smile. "There were… good t-times. Bad. It was… our life."

"Funny how that keeps going on. No matter where you are." Darren hesitated for a few moments.

And Chakotay remembered. Not that he had forgotten. But every day back on Earth had distanced him from that life: bridge duty, away missions, shore leave. And Kazon, Borg, species 8472.

Life. His life. A life that he missed.

"So, first officer – quite a responsibility. Especially when you weren't expecting it."

"It… w-worked out."

"You had the training for it. The background. The ability." He fixed him with a steady gaze. "But , unexpected?"

Chakotay still wasn't sure where this was going, but he answered. "Yes…M-Maquis turned Starfleet… not wh-what I expected."

"But life tends to take us down some unexpected roads, doesn't it?"

And Chakotay immediately thought of those lines from Dante, those words that he'd shared with Kathryn: _In the middle of the journey of our life I found myself astray in a dark wood where the straight road had been lost._

He sighed again, a long heavy breath. "It does."

"But we travel those roads, and often feel more… complete for having ventured down them."

A silence stretched between them. And Darren wasn't in any hurry to fill it. He let Chakotay think about his statement.

And then, long minutes later. "Do you regret your time in the Delta Quadrant?"

"Never." That was an answer he didn't have to think about. It was something he'd known and made peace with a long time ago. Being thrown into the Delta Quadrant, thrown onto _Voyager_, thrown into Kathryn Janeway's life had been the best damned thing that ever happened to him. Something so… unexpected… had altered the course of his life and made it better.

"It changed you?" A question.

Chakotay glanced up at him, wondering if the man could read minds, but realizing it was a natural progression – unexpected roads always brought change.

He nodded. An answer.

"This stroke was unexpected."

Chakotay froze, not sure if he saw the connection, not sure he wanted to. But knowing that the conversation had been guiding him to this moment – this road.

"It's changed you." A statement.

Another shake of his head. An affirmation.

"How does make it you feel?"

He'd come to terms with the Delta Quadrant, but he hadn't come to terms with this. Hadn't had enough time to sort it out, to walk those roads that lay before him. And there were a half a dozen words he could use to answer that question: tired, hurt, scared, frustrated, angry, ashamed. But those weren't the first ones that came into his mind. What he felt was something he'd felt many times before in his life. It was what he'd felt when Starfleet turned its back on the border colonies. What he'd felt when Tuvok unceremoniously turned on him on _Voyager's_ bridge. What he'd felt when Seska had called him a fool before transporting to the Kazon ship. And what he'd felt three days ago when he'd been in pain and struggling on the floor of his office, unable to control the movements of his own body.

He leveled his gaze on the counselor and answered with one word. "Betrayed."

~vVv~


	14. Chapter 14

To his credit, Paul Darren didn't press the issue. Didn't force Chakotay to dig any deeper than he was ready to dig. That one word encompassed so much – more than Starfleet, more than Tuvok, even more than Seska. And, if he were honest with himself, much more than the stroke. Kathryn was there – in between, next to, hidden behind – in the middle of all those other incidents. He'd felt it when she wanted to define parameters while on New Earth; in the way she'd handled the Borg and species 8472; through her actions toward Ransom and the crew of the _Equinox_ – and when she'd fallen in love with Michael Sullivan and Jaffen. But not in love with him.

Betrayed.

Even now, he felt the weight of it pulling at him – now, when all those other times and places were past, and he had a present and a future with her.

Maybe he hadn't come to terms with the Delta Quadrant.

He'd looked up into the counselor's eyes – saw patience and understanding – and a willingness to let Chakotay choose the path and set the pace. Four months earlier, he'd rushed through Starfleet's required post-mission counseling sessions, staying on the surface, telling that counselor what she'd wanted to hear – he knew the patter of the routine.

But now, maybe, he would slow down, go deeper, tell Paul Darren not what he wanted to hear, but what Chakotay wanted to say – needed to say.

He thought of Kathryn, and knew there was so much more at stake.

~vVv~

"Ah, Captain, what a pleasant surprise!" The Doctor looked up from his computer screen as she walked into his office on the 11th floor. "To what do I owe the pleasure? Is the Commander all right?"

Kathryn smiled. "He's fine. No change since you saw him this morning."

"He's doing very well." He indicated a chair across from his desk. "Please, have a seat."

She sat down, relaxing back into the chair with a sigh.

A frown creased his face. "Captain, you sound tired. Are you getting enough sleep? I know you're staying the nights with him, but perhaps you should go home and rest for a while. He'll be all right. He has an excellent team taking care of him." He said the last bit with a somewhat self-satisfied expression.

Kathryn tried not to laugh. Humility was never one of the Doctor's strongpoints. "Oh, I know he's getting the best of care. I just don't like the idea of being too far away from him for too long."

"Especially now, I take it?" The Doctor raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

She pursed her lips. "I take it you've heard."

"I am tuned in to the proverbial grapevine, and I do have eyes." He smiled knowingly. "Some people may think it's cliché, but you do have a glow about you, Captain."

She felt a slight blush warm her cheeks, and she laughed. "Apparently, I've never been able to hide it. B'Elanna told me that my love life, or lack thereof, was a popular topic amongst betting pools while on _Voyager_."

"Yes. And odds were definitely in your favor. I think all of the crew will be quite happy when they hear of this new development. I know I am."

"It still doesn't feel quite…. real to me."

"Maybe because nothing has really changed - other than the fact that you've admitted your feelings to each other. The love was always there; it was just… unspoken."

She shook her head and issued another small sigh. "All those years, I convinced myself that he was just a loyal First Officer, a good friend… my best friend."

"And he was."

She looked down at her hands, knotted in her lap. "But he was more. And I couldn't let myself admit that." She raised her eyes to the Doctor. "I hurt him." She gave a half sigh, half laugh. "I know you're not wearing your clerical robe, or seeking confessions, but…"

"You can always talk to me, Kathryn," he assured her with a gentle smile. "I seem to remember a Starship captain who was there for me on many occasions." He saw the silent acknowledgement in her eyes. "As for Commander Chakotay, he's a very strong man. I'm sure that he has handled whatever… hurt there may have been."

Kathryn nodded, dropped her gaze. She knew that he had handled it – and how: Riley, and Kellin, and Valerie Archer. And Seven. She didn't blame him for those relationships…

She blamed herself for causing the hurt… Blamed herself because she couldn't give to him what others had given. And only barely given…

Those relationships were all so… short-lived. And she heard his words again: _Five weeks – not much of a relationship._

She felt tears fill her eyes. This man – this loyal, steadfast, caring man – had wanted something that would last. And she hadn't been able to give him that.

Until now.

She looked back up at the Doctor.

"I'll never hurt him again." She wasn't looking for absolution.

"He knows that." Just confirmation.

~vVv~

Lunch was very… quiet.

She told him that she'd been to visit the Doctor during his counseling session. And they both sensed that each of them had already done a lot of talking, and so they ate in silence – another bowl of soup, a chicken sandwich, a glass of milk, a cup of coffee.

It wasn't a difficult silence – over the years they'd perfected the art of being silent together: sitting on the bridge as the Delta Quadrant unfolded before them; working on reports in her Ready Room; gazing out the viewport after a satisfying, if not slightly burned, dinner; sailing on Lake George as a full moon rose high above them.

Sometimes, Kathryn felt like they handled the silences better than the conversations. Especially in the later years when words were said that shouldn't have been, while others went unsaid altogether.

But their silences had always been complete – full of acceptance, and trust, and commitment to their journey.

And now, they were on another journey. Still together.

Kathryn looked over at him, smiling at the line of milk that traced along his upper lip. She reached out and ran her finger across it. And sighed.

They were comfortable with each other. Perhaps a terribly middle-aged sentiment, but a feeling she wouldn't trade for anything.

Chakotay kissed the finger that she'd pressed against his lips, his tongue darting out and lapping at the drop of milk. _Like a cat._ And she giggled.

He grinned. "What?"

"I know you can't tell me, but I'm convinced that your spirit guide is a lion, or a tiger, or a leopard. Maybe an ordinary housecat." She ran her finger across his cheek, up over the lines of his tattoo. "You are so… feline."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, and so he said nothing, just grabbed her hand and kissed her palm before returning to the soup, and milk, and silence.

Which was broken a few minutes later by B'Elanna who came in with Miral balanced against her shoulder. "Apparently there are no age restrictions for visitors, so look who came to see her Uncle Chakotay."

The smile he gave her lit up the room, and he pushed the bed table away. "Hand her… over. I c-can hold her." He glanced down at his right side.

And B'Elanna leaned down and placed Miral on the bed in between his right arm and his chest. He curled his hand up over the small, wriggling body.

"Hey, there…" he breathed, leaning his head over and placing a soft kiss on the tiny ridges of her forehead.

Miral just smiled, reaching up and grabbing at his chin.

B'Elanna leaned toward Kathryn, whispering theatrically. "Women can't resist him."

With a roll of her eyes, Kathryn whispered back. "Tell me about it."

~vVv~

How a four-month-old baby could capture the complete attention of three adults was a mystery to Kathryn Janeway, but somehow this particular baby could. She blinked up at them, grabbed at their fingers, smiled at the silly faces they made. She bounced to the rhythm of their voices as they all leaned over her, telling little nonsense rhymes and singing songs. She seemed to react to their every movement and word until finally, heavy-lidded little eyes fell closed, and with her head cradled in the crook of her Uncle Chakotay's arm, Miral Paris fell asleep.

"She's wonderfully entertaining, B'Elanna," Kathryn noted. "I'm surprised you and Tom ever get out of the house."

"Don't get me wrong. I love her. But she isn't always this charming." She gazed over at her daughter, safely tucked against Chakotay's side, her head pillowed on his bicep. "For some reason, she never cries when Chakotay holds her."

"That's because Chakotay's personality puts women to sleep," Tom's voice chimed in as he came through the door. He shot a grin in Chakotay's direction, then leaned over the back of B'Elanna's chair and kissed his wife.

"I beg to differ with you on that one, Mister Paris," Kathryn interjected, gazing over at the man on the bed. "I find Chakotay's personality quite… stimulating."

"I may be too young to hear this," Tom chuckled, sitting on the end of the bed. He looked over at his baby daughter, who yawned and shifted in her sleep before settling closer to Chakotay's chest. "Seriously though, how do you do that? Sometimes I can't get her to stop crying, and with you, she's either all smiles or sound asleep."

Chakotay lifted his eyebrows and shrugged.

"He could do this with Naomi, too." Kathryn smiled softly at Chakotay. "Do you remember?"

He nodded.

Late one night, they'd been working on reports in the mess hall when Samantha had come in with a very fussy baby hoping that Neelix might know how to calm her. Before the Talaxian even had a chance to offer a suggestion, Chakotay had gotten up, gone over to Samantha, and taken Naomi. He'd held her to his chest, tucking her tiny head under his chin. Instantly, she'd stopped crying.

From then on, whenever Naomi got overly upset, Samantha would seek out Chakotay's help. It didn't happen a lot because usually she was a very happy, content baby. But on those rare occasions, only he had been able to quiet her. _Part of a first officer's duties,_ he had simply said, _one of the perks of the job._

"I always thought it had something to do with your spirit guide," Kathryn said. "Maybe babies just sense that… inner peace."

Chakotay rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure how much inner peace he had at the moment.

"Personality notwithstanding, it could be that air of command," Tom proposed. "Or maybe that Maquis Mauler thing you've got going…" He grinned. "Some women like that."

"It's the arms."

She said it so softly, they could barely hear it, but their attention turned to B'Elanna. She sat low in her chair, her fingers steepled under her chin, her eyes focused on Chakotay.

She held her lower lip between her teeth for a moment and then sighed. "Your arms… make them feel safe."

~vVv~

Later, as they were leaving, B'Elanna leaned over to kiss Chakotay's cheek, and then whispered in his ear. "Thanks."

He didn't ask why. He knew.

In the almost ten years that he'd known her, there had been several times when he'd wrapped his arms around her – in friendship, in support, in sympathy, in joy. Those years with the Maquis, when an arm draped around the shoulder was enough to get you through another night. That first year on Voyager, when a casual embrace gave her the strength to face another day as chief engineer in the face of some opposition. After they'd learned about their fellow Maquis, when he'd held her firmly and forced her to see what she was doing on the holodeck. And that day when he'd walked her down the aisle and given her away to the other man who loved her.

For B'Elanna, he was commander, friend, brother, father. And shelter.

Before she pulled away, he lifted his arms and hugged her, right one strong and grasping, the left – getting there.

Then she stepped back and smiled. "I'll be back at dinner," she promised, following Tom and Miral out the door.

Kathryn went over and sat on the side of the bed, leaning into the space where the baby had been, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. He tightened his arms around her.

"She's right. I'm feeling very safe."

He grinned and kissed the top of her head. "Me, too."

~vVv~


	15. Chapter 15

Unfortunately, the feeling didn't last. An hour later, Chakotay lay on a mat in the middle of the physical therapy room while Scott repeatedly lifted his leg and bent it at the knee, pushing it back in a ninety degree angle. He turned his head and looked to the side of the room; Kathryn was there, but she seemed far away, and he was feeling a little vulnerable.

Scott had already spent a long time exercising his left arm, and he seemed to be pleased with the strength and control that Chakotay was regaining. He would need upper body strength to help him manage the parallel bars once they got him up on his feet. It all seemed very fast to Chakotay – he'd been flat on his back just three and a half days ago, and now, in a little while, he'd be trying to walk. Of course, Scott would be there to support him, but still…

He continued to gaze at Kathryn, realizing he needed her support, too. And found himself a bit frightened at that realization. He'd come to depend on her a lot in the past few days, knowing she would be there whenever he opened his eyes. And he wasn't used to being dependent on anyone but himself – wasn't sure how this made him feel, wasn't sure he liked it – even though he loved her, had always loved her…

"All right, Chakotay." Scott's voice broke into his thoughts. "I'm going to put a brace on this leg, and then we're going to get you back in the wheelchair and over to those parallel bars."

Chakotay propped himself up on his elbows to watch.

"Kathryn," Scott called to her, "why don't you come see how I put this on? He'll need some help with it for a while."

She came over and knelt on the mat beside them, placing her hand on Chakotay's right thigh as she watched Scott fasten the brace to his left leg. It was black plastic, with Velcro straps that ran from his upper thigh to just above his ankle.

"It can be worn over clothing or under," Scott explained as he closed it around the sweatpants he was wearing. "And you'll probably need to wear it for the next couple of months. Even when you feel like your back to normal, I'd advise keeping it on for a little longer. It's just going to add more support." He pulled the last strap into place, and patted his leg. "All right. Let me get the chair."

He jumped up to go get the wheelchair, and Chakotay focused his eyes on Kathryn.

"How does it feel?" she asked.

And he shrugged. "Not b-bad. Little stiff."

"You ready for this?"

"Scott s-says I am."

"And you are," the therapist reassured as he positioned the wheelchair next to him. He leaned over. "Put your arm around my shoulder, and on three I'm going to lift you. Brace with your right leg and let the left stay straight for right now. Then we'll shift toward the chair. Use your left hand to guide you down."

He wrapped his arm around Scott's shoulder.

"One, two, three… lift."

The movement was smooth and easy, and a moment later Chakotay was back in the wheelchair and Scott was pushing him to the other side of the room.

They stopped next to a set of parallel bars that measured about six meters in length, and Scott positioned the wheelchair at the end. He stood in front of Chakotay, in between the bars. He picked up Chakotay's right hand and placed it on the right bar, and then placed the left one on the other bar.

"Now, you've got enough strength on your right side to pull up into a standing position. Once you're up, put most of your weight on your right leg at first."

Chakotay nodded, and, taking a deep breath, he pulled himself up, immediately feeling the room spin. Unconsciously, he closed his eyes, felt Scott's hands on his arms, steadying him.

"The dizziness will pass quickly. Take deep breaths."

Chakotay breathed in slowly, exhaled. Opened his eyes, saw Kathryn standing to the left of him. He nodded slightly, and gave her a smile. "I'm all right."

She let go of the breath she'd been holding, and returned his smile.

"Just stand for a moment," Scott instructed. "And then start putting a little more weight on your left leg."

Chakotay did what he was told, and was surprised to find that his left leg felt stronger. The expression on his face must have signaled his thoughts to Scott.

"That brace helps, doesn't it?"

Chakotay nodded. "Feels… m-more solid."

"How does the left arm feel?"

He leaned more of his upper body weight to the left side. The arm held. "Better."

Scott moved his hand from Chakotay's arms to his hips. "All right. Time to get moving." He squeezed his right hip. "Start with this side. Take a small step and then bring the left leg up to meet it. Keep some weight on your arms as well."

Looking down, Chakotay moved the right leg forward and placed his foot on the mat, made sure his weight was adjusted and then half lifted, half slid his left foot forward. It was sluggish, but it moved, and he brought it even with the right, planted it firmly.

"Congratulations, Commander," Scott smiled. "That's the first step of many."

Chakotay looked up, and tried to relax. He realized that his right hand was almost white from the grasp he had on the bar. Not from the need for support – just tension. He flexed the fingers of both hands, and looked back to his left. She was there, having taken the step with him.

She leaned over and kissed him on the lips. "Ten for form on the parallel bars," she murmured as she pulled back.

Scott laughed. "All right. Save it for the end. Give him some incentive."

And it was incentive. Over the next several minutes, he managed to walk the rest of the length of the bars, and even wanted to turn around and walk back when he reached the end. But Scott stopped him. "Don't push it, Chakotay." He looked toward Kathryn and pointed to the wheelchair, indicating for her to bring it to them. "Six meters is enough for one afternoon. We'll double it tomorrow."

Kathryn brought the wheelchair, and Chakotay turned and sank into it. He looked up at her, tilting his face. She leaned over and kissed him again.

Scott turned away with a chuckle. "At this rate, he's going to be running by the end of the week."

~vVv~

This time, he did fall asleep in the middle of his bath. Kathryn just smiled as she helped Beth finish up, dressing him in a pair of light blue pajamas that she'd brought from his apartment. She suspected that he didn't sleep in pajamas much, since they were the only pair she'd found. He probably slept in shorts or sweats most of the time, but the pajamas would give him some good practice with buttoning later on.

Not much practice now, she sighed as she tucked the sheet and blanket around his chest, then ran her hand lovingly over his shoulder. He'd worn himself out, and although she didn't want him to overdo it, she was pleased to see his determination.

She felt a hand touch her arm. "He's not the only one who could use some rest," Beth suggested.

Kathryn smiled. "I'm fine." She glanced toward the book that sat on the counter under the window. "I think I'll just read for a while."

And Beth sighed. "Well, if you feel yourself drifting off, don't resist."

"I won't."

And she didn't. Less than ten minutes later, her eyes slipped closed and she slept.

~vVv~

_He leaned back in his desk chair and rubbed his eyes with his fingers, pinched the bridge of his nose, rolled his shoulders, and groaned. The pain that had been building at the base of his neck for the past few hours was intensifying, spreading under his ear, along his jawline, up over his cheek bone to his right temple, radiating along the side of his head. He felt like the skin under his hair was prickling with pinpoints of fire, sizzling, crackling electrical impulses that burned._

_He'd taken an analgesic earlier, and he'd managed to make it through his freshman Anthropology class, but just barely. He still felt like the last fifteen minutes had to have made little to no sense, but none of the cadets said anything or even looked at him funny. So maybe it wasn't as bad as it seemed._

_He glanced down at his notes on the padd he held in his left hand. The words seemed so small and indistinct. Not for the first time, he thought about reading glasses. Of course, a simple laser procedure could take care of aging eyesight these days, but he'd always thought eyeglasses would be appropriate for a Starfleet instructor. Maybe a bit affective, but fitting nonetheless. He tried to smile as he imagined Kathryn's probable reaction to a pair of horn-rims worn low on his nose, but even the effort to lift the corners of his lips was too much._

_He squeezed his eyes shut and dropped the padd on his desk, ran his right hand up over his face, feeling beads of perspiration cold on his cheeks and forehead. The pain above his right ear seemed more severe now, stabbing and hot, while his left arm began to tingle._

_A glass of water, he thought, as he rose to his feet and took a step toward the replicator. One step. And then he fell, dropping heavily to the carpeted floor, his left shoulder and hip hitting hard._

_He felt the burning rip across the right side of his head, felt a scream rising in his throat – but it came out as a muffled moan, his lips tingling, his tongue heavy and thick. He tried to reach for his commbadge, but it was pinned under his shoulder and he couldn't move, couldn't shift his body…_

_The pain came again, like a continuous neural disruptor blast – and the cry that tore from his throat was another moan, barely audible to his own ears… And then, he began to shake, trembling coursing down along his extremities… And the pain, red hot and then black…_

~vVv~

The sound pulled her awake – somewhere between a low moan and a soft cry. She opened her eyes and heard it again. _Chakotay_.

The book that was balanced on her knee fell to the floor as she got to her feet and hurried over to him. He was still asleep, but he was dreaming, head moving on the pillow, eyes darting underneath closed lids.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and smoothed her hand over his forehead, pressing her fingers to his temple, stilling the movement of his head. "Shh, Chakotay, it's all right," she soothed, rubbing his cheek with her other hand.

He groaned, louder this time, his eyes blinking open, and he came awake with a sudden jolt, his shoulders lifting from the bed, breath labored.

"You're okay," Kathryn assured, pushing him back into the pillows, feeling the muscles in his upper body tense at her touch and then relax.

He closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, looked up at her again. "Umm… It hurt… s-so b-bad." His head started to move again, back and forth, as if trying to fight the memories. "C-couldn't m-move."

And she realized that he was remembering the stroke, even though his doctors said that he might not recall the details of that afternoon.

She caressed his cheek again. "I know. But you're all right now."

He continued to shake his head, and his face creased with lines of tension. Tears formed in his eyes. "T-tried to… m-move." He lifted his right hand to his head, started to rub at a spot above his ear. "It… hurt." She felt him starting to tremble, his breath catching in his chest. "Hurt… Tom."

"Tom found you."

"S-so c-cold…" He closed his eyes again. "Hands… t-touching me."

"Those were the doctors helping you, Chakotay. Tom had you transported to Starfleet Medical. But you're all right now."

He blinked up at her, and the dam broke, the tears falling onto his cheeks as he began to cry.

Kathryn leaned over and gathered him into her arms, pressed his head into her shoulder as she began to rock him. "It's okay, Chakotay, just let it out. It's all right." She rubbed a hand up over the back of his head, stroking through his hair softly. "I'm here."

And he cried. For a long time. And she held him. And when the tears finally stopped, he drifted back to sleep, exhausted, emotionally drained.

She lowered him to the pillows and sat back.

And then she cried. Realizing how frightened he had been, how much it had hurt. How alone he must have felt.

~vVv~

There were no more dreams, and he slept soundly for another half hour before he woke again. Kathryn had pulled herself together, refreshed her make-up, gotten a cup of coffee, and she was relieved to see that his eyes were clear when he opened them.

He yawned, stretching his right arm above him and pushing his left arm forward. He couldn't quite lift it as high as the other one, but he had a natural instinct to move it.

Kathryn was sitting in the chair next to his bed now, and she gazed over at him. "How do you feel?" she asked softly, not sure if he would remember.

Chakotay sighed and licked his lips. "I'm… okay. I guess."

She noted that his speech was stronger, not as halting. That was a good sign. She wasn't sure if she should ask, but she did. "Do you remember your dream?"

He nodded. "Yeah… n-nightmare."

She moved to the side of the bed, taking his left hand, holding it between both of her hands.

He looked down, not meeting her eyes. And she knew he was ashamed of the tears that he'd cried, what to him was a show of weakness.

She squeezed his hand. "I know it hurt. I know how scared you were." She hesitated, taking a deep breath. "They told me that you were calling for me." He lifted his head. And she touched his temple, stroked his hair. "I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

"No…" He shook his head, negating her words. "You have… nothing to be… s-sorry for." He lifted his right hand and touched her cheek. "You're here… now."

~vVv~


	16. Chapter 16

"Dog. Oak tree. Skis."

Kathryn half listened to Chakotay's voice as he scrolled through the memory exercise on the data padd that Grace had given him earlier in the morning_. "Homework," she'd laughed, explaining the program. "You identify the images aloud, and the padd will give an auditory signal if you're incorrect."_

So far, Kathryn hadn't heard any signals. Just Chakotay. And she was pleased to hear his speech getting better. _Killing two birds with one stone,_ Grace had said – speech therapy and recall.

"Boat. Hoverball. K-kitty cat."

She chuckled at that one, and, looking up from her own padd, she glanced over at him. "Kitty cat?"

He glared at her and continued. "Shoe. Duck. Intrepid class s-starship."

"Oh, you are kidding me!"

He shook his head and turned the data padd toward her. "Random images."

She leaned closer. Sure enough. It was an Intrepid class starship, but not _Voyager_. "Looks like the _Bellerophon_."

Chakotay nodded and grimaced. "C-can't… say that."

"Apparently, Intrepid class starship is acceptable," Kathryn laughed. "No beeps."

He sighed. "Yet."

And his luck didn't hold out. Several images later, the padd signaled an incorrect identification.

Kathryn hadn't registered what he'd actually said, but she offered a suggestion. "Try rhinoceros."

That earned her another glare before he tried again. "B-building."

Still not correct.

"House."

Wrong again.

Frustrated, he dropped the padd on the tray table and leaned back, rubbing his eyes and issuing another heavy sigh.

Kathryn got up from her chair and went over to him, picked up the padd and looked at the image.

"I need to take you home to Indiana." She turned the padd back to him. "We have one of these on the farm. We used to keep horses there."

Chakotay squinted at her, and then it came to him. "Barn."

Kathryn smiled and patted his arm. "Good job. And the invitation is still open. You'd love Indiana."

"Who's going to Indiana?"

They both looked toward the door to see Tom striding in with a flat square box in his hand.

"No one right now," Kathryn answered, turning off the data padd with a press of her thumb.

Tom set the box on the tray table and dropped a data rod beside it. "Saturday night – pizza and a movie."

"Pizza?" Kathryn raised a concerned eyebrow. So far, Chakotay had eaten soup at almost every meal.

"I just checked with the nurses," B'Elanna answered as she walked through the door. "As long as he doesn't have any trouble swallowing, pizza is fine."

Chakotay was already opening the box and reaching for a slice of pineapple and mushroom pizza. And Kathryn almost laughed at the look on his face – like a man lost in the desert who had just stumbled upon a fountain.

"Well, thank goodness the nurses approved. I don't think we could pry it out of his hand," she observed as he stuffed the end point of the pizza into his mouth. "Slow down," she cautioned, touching her hand to his. "Not too much at once."

He gave her that same glare that he'd given her earlier – part serious, part joking – but she pulled her hand away. Best not get in between a man and his pizza.

Tom and B'Elanna had helped themselves to slices and settled in the chairs next to the bed. She remained where she was on the edge of the bed and picked up a piece from the other side of the box – no pineapple, just cheese and mushrooms. She took a bite. It was good.

"Where did you get this?" She glanced over at Tom.

He swallowed and answered. "Little Italian restaurant a few blocks from the Academy. Luigi's. Best pizza in the city."

"And beer." Chakotay added in between bites that he was successfully chewing and swallowing.

Tom looked at him, and their eyes caught, each thinking the same thing. "Yeah," Tom agreed. "The best." He took a deep breath, broke the gaze. "But I knew the nurses would never let you have beer. At least, not yet."

"Not ever in a hospital, Tom," B'Elanna chided.

"Not ever?" He shook his head and getting to his feet, he leaned over and snagged another slice. "We gotta get you out of here, big guy."

Kathryn laughed. "Remember - one step at a time, Tom."

~vVv~

The pizza was good, and then it was gone. Tom ate three slices, Chakotay managed two, and Kathryn and B'Elanna had one each and split the last piece. Tom cleared the box away and picked up the data rod, preparing to start the movie.

"I don't know about any of you," Kathryn spoke up, "but if I'm going to stay awake to finish _Gone with the Wind_, I'll need some coffee."

"Me, too," B'Elanna agreed, as both women stood. "I'll go with you."

"Bring me back a soda," Tom requested.

Kathryn stepped toward Chakotay. "What about you?"

"W-water's fine." He glanced at the cup he already had on the bedside table.

She leaned in closer, whispered in his ear. "Speaking of fluids…" She glanced at the urinal on the other side of the bed.

He sighed. "Wh-while you're… gone."

"Let Tom help." She was close enough to feel his cheek grow hot, but a little embarrassment was better than the possible alternative.

She felt him nod, and then she straightened. "Feel free to start the movie without us," she offered as she and B'Elanna left.

"I get the distinct feeling that they don't want to watch this movie," Tom said, passing the data rod from one hand to the other. "What do you think?"

"Truth?" Chakotay leveled his gaze at him.

Tom laughed. "You always tell me the truth, Chakotay. The cold, hard, bitter truth… I expect that from you."

He licked his lips. "The movie… reminds m-me of Q."

And the memory was there immediately in Tom's mind. "Hell… I didn't think of that. I wonder what he's up to."

"No telling." Chakotay sighed and reached over to the side of the bed. He didn't want to think about Q right now. He needed to pee. How Kathryn knew these things was something else he didn't want to think about. But now was the best time. He picked up the urinal and looked back at Tom. "If you don't m-mind, I kinda need to…"

"Oh, yeah, I'll step outside."

"You don't have to. It's s-sort of an… undercover operation."

Tom nodded. "Do you need any help? Remember, I am a medic. Best one on _Voyager_."

Chakotay laughed at that. "Only one on _Voyager._" But then the expression on his face softened. He remembered many times waking up in Sickbay with Tom close by. He was a good medic. "Yeah," he conceded. "Hold the… b-blankets up a little."

"No problem." Tom stepped over and held the blankets while Chakotay took care of business, and then helped hang the urinal back on the side of the bed. He went into the bathroom and came back with a wet cloth so Chakotay could wipe his hands.

"Thanks," the older man said quietly, eyes cast downward. "You are a… good m-medic."

Tom shrugged. "Seven years of practice." He sank down into a chair.

Chakotay nodded. "Pizza was… good." He pressed his lips together and looked up. "A bit… overdue."

And they were back at that moment when Tom had mentioned Luigi's.

Chakotay swallowed, felt a lump in his throat. If Tom didn't insist on dragging him out of his office every Tuesday afternoon for lunch, then he wouldn't have found him. If he hadn't have found him, he may not have gotten to Starfleet Medical in time. If he hadn't have gotten here in time, then… Hell, the man saved his life. Again.

"Thank you, Tom," he said simply. "Don't know… how m-many lives I have left, but…"

"They're all mine," Tom claimed with a grin that flashed across his face and then faded. "I don't mind the extra burden, but..." He caught Chakotay's eyes and this time he didn't look away. "You scared me."

"I know." Chakotay drew in a breath. "I'm s-sorry."

"No…" Tom shook his head. "Just…don't do it again."

~vVv~

"You didn't really want coffee," B'Elanna said as she stepped into the lift next to Kathryn.

"I always want coffee."

"There's a replicator in the waiting room at the end of the hall."

Kathryn glanced over at her, an innocent expression on her face. "Is there?"

And B'Elanna shook her head. "They bought it. Maybe they're talking."

Kathryn nodded, knowing her cover was blown. "I felt like they needed to. When Tom mentioned Luigi's, well…" Her voice trailed off as the lift halted and the door slid open. She'd seen the look in both their eyes.

"That's where they were going when Tom found him," B'Elanna said as they headed toward the replicator in the cafeteria.

"That's what I thought."

"Yeah. Tom manages to pull him out of that office every Tuesday for a late lunch. Most days I think he exists on tuna fish sandwiches from his replicator. That is if he remembers to eat at all."

"I know," Kathryn agreed, glancing over at a table by the window. "I'll get the coffee. Let's sit for a while. Give them some time."

B'Elanna nodded and sat down, accepted the steaming cup of coffee a moment later as Kathryn settled in the chair across from her.

"I worry about him," Kathryn admitted, setting her own cup on the table, sliding it back and forth between her hands, focusing her eyes on it. "Especially when I have to be gone." She looked up at B'Elanna, saw the questioning expression, thought further explanation was warranted. "He came to my house late one night, a couple of weeks after he and Seven broke up. Until then, we'd only seen each other at briefings or official functions."

"Don't tell me he was drunk," B'Elanna sighed.

And Kathryn smiled, gave a half laugh. "I thought the same thing at first. But he wasn't." She took a sip of her coffee, set the cup back down, stared through the window at the night sky. "I think… he just wanted to talk, and… be friends again. Not that we'd stopped being friends, but…" She hesitated. "Things had changed between us… Even before Seven."

B'Elanna reached over and touched the hand that was wrapped around the coffee cup. "I know, Kathryn." She swallowed, and continued, never thinking that she would talk about this, but feeling like they both needed to. "We saw it happen. Those years when Tom and I were growing closer… we watched you and Chakotay growing apart. We all did… Harry, Neelix, the Doctor, Tuvok… We saw it happening, but… we couldn't stop it." She exhaled a deep breath. "I tried a couple of times. He told me to mind my own business – not those exact words, but close enough."

"I pushed him away."

B'Elanna shook her head. "No. Like I said, you grew apart. It just happened. If there was any pushing, it was the Borg, or species 8472, or the Hirogen, or… a dozen others." She squeezed her hand. "What's important is that you're together now."

Kathryn sighed. "Don't dwell in the past?"

"Live in the present. Look to the future." B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "I know that sounds… corny."

"No. It sounds good to me."

~vVv~

They'd already started the movie by the time they returned, but it looked different.

"This isn't _Gone with the Wind,_" B'Elanna noted, leaning over and handing Tom the soda she'd gotten from the replicator.

He shook his head. "Slight change," he answered, not taking his eyes off the vidscreen. "_Night of_ _the Comet_. Classic late twentieth century zombie movie."

"What happened to Scarlett and Rhett?" Kathryn asked as she settled back into her place on the side of the bed.

"Chakotay said it reminded him too much of Q," Tom replied, taking a long drink of his soda and smacking his lips.

B'Elanna frowned at his lack of manners and exchanged a look with Kathryn. They both took a moment to consider his words.

"Point taken," Kathryn agreed. And then a slight smile lifted her lips. "I wonder how he's doing."

Chakotay cut his eyes at her. "D-don't go there."

"But I'm his son's godmother," she teased.

"They're fine," Chakotay said flatly. "They're Q."

And she gave a gentle laugh; even after all these years, she sensed a certain degree of jealousy where Q was concerned.

She reached over and rubbed his arm. "You're right. I'm sure they're fine."

Tom glanced over at them. "All right. This is the part you've got to see. The actor who plays Hector looks just like Chakotay."

They all shifted their gazes to the vidscreen and watched as a man carrying an old-fashioned firearm walked stealthily through what looked to be an abandoned building. He came upon two teen-aged girls, who were appropriately surprised and scared and then defiant. Once the character stepped into the light, they could see his features better.

Tom gestured toward the screen. "What did I tell you? Just like Chakotay."

B'Elanna stared. "You really think so?"

"Sure," Tom answered, looking back toward the man on the bed. "I mean, no offense, he's younger than you, but I see a resemblance."

"Well, I guess there is a resemblance," Kathryn said, looking at Chakotay, taking note of the tanned skin, high cheekbones, and full lower lip. Of course, his hair was a little more salt and pepper these days, but she liked it that way. "What do you think?" she asked softly, leaning into him and resting her head on his shoulder. "Could this guy be a distant relative?"

He shrugged and pursed his lips. There was a likeness – to his younger days – give or take about fifteen, twenty years. "You never know," he grinned, giving Kathryn a light kiss on the forehead.

"Did you say this was a zombie movie?" B'Elanna questioned.

"Yeah."

"Not like that won't remind us of some Delta Quadrant species!"

And Tom just sighed while the three of them laughed.

~vVv~

As the credits rolled, B'Elanna looked over at the bed and smiled. Kathryn and Chakotay had both fallen asleep, her head on his shoulder, his cheek against her hair.

She nudged Tom. "Should we wake them?" she whispered.

"No," Tom said quietly, as he got up and retrieved the data rod. "We'll tell the nurses to check on them."

"I guess zombies weren't enough to keep them awake."

~vVv~


	17. Chapter 17

She wasn't sure when her head fell onto his shoulder, wasn't sure when she drew her legs up next to his and curled in close to his body. Wasn't sure when her eyes closed. Wasn't sure if she fell asleep before he did.

She did know that he was asleep, softly snoring, when her eyes opened. She could see that Tom and B'Elanna were gone, the movie no longer playing. She was hesitant to move, not wanting to wake him. And she was reluctant to lose contact, enjoying the feel of him beneath her – warm, secure, the solid thump of his heartbeat in her ear. She sighed, snuggling closer, her hand resting over the top button of his pajama shirt, fingers lightly touching the bare skin of his chest. She closed her eyes, perfectly content.

Long minutes passed, and even though she was very still, she could tell he was waking up. The soft snores faded, his breathing changed – she felt him shift beneath her. And then his voice, low and husky.

"Have the… kids left?"

She turned her face into him, smiled against his chest. The kids… Tom and B'Elanna.

"The old folks fell asleep on them," she murmured.

She felt his arm tighten around her. "One of them… fell asleep on me."

"The other one of them makes a nice pillow," she sighed, rubbing her hand over his shoulder. She felt his body shift underneath her again, and she moved back slightly. "Am I hurting you?"

"Oh, no." He pulled her closer, wrapping his other arm around her, keeping his weaker left arm in place with his right hand, holding her firmly in his embrace. "You feel good."

"So do you." Kathryn pressed closer, moving one leg over his. She knew the nurses could come in any minute.

_Let them._

She felt him nuzzle her hair, lips soft on her forehead, breath warm on her face.

He sighed in contentment.

Her angry warrior – not so angry now.

But in the five years since he'd told her that story, she knew he'd returned – the anger simmering just beneath the surface – angry with a situation, angry with some hostile alien, angry with her. She'd known it, felt it – at times so hard and hot that it burned, his eyes almost black as they stared into hers.

They'd hurt each other.

Even now, wrapped warmly in his arms, her mind traveled back to those years, those days, those moments – ghosts of memories: Ransom, the Borg, Teero. So many times when they'd disagreed, met an impasse… felt alone.

She never wanted to feel that way again.

She sighed. Still so much they needed to talk about… so many ghosts that needed to be exorcised.

But not tonight.

She snuggled even closer, wrapped her arms around him, holding him as securely as he held her. She breathed in the scent of him, closed her eyes. "I love you," she murmured.

"Love you, too," he whispered.

~vVv~

"You need him…"

The words hung in the middle of the room. And she wasn't sure if they were a question or an observation.

For Paul Darren, perhaps, it was an inquiry – a call for clarification.

For her, most likely, it was a surety – a statement of fact.

And yet, she let the words hang there a few moments longer while she contemplated their meaning and her surroundings.

She sat in the psychiatrist's corner office, third floor of Starfleet Medical, large windows on two walls. That, in itself, surprised her. In her memory, counselors' offices had always been small, dark, claustrophobic at times. But this room was bright and open, and she felt like she could breathe.

It was Sunday morning, but Chakotay's therapy sessions went along like clockwork, and Paul had contacted her and asked if she'd like to meet with him before he met with Chakotay again.

And so, here she was, examining three words that should have been simple, and yet were so complex – only because of her desire to avoid them, she realized.

And so she met them head on. "Yes, I need him."

Paul nodded. "That's not easy to admit."

"No," she answered simply, even though this time she knew his words were not a question.

"And yet you didn't run away from it."

She swallowed, glanced down, and then back up. "Not this time," she smiled, thinking of all those years when she had. "I can't deny it anymore. I do need him. I love him very much."

"I can see that." He was quiet for a moment, and his next words caught her by surprise. "How long have you known?"

She wasn't expecting that question. Thought it was enough to admit to the love she had for him, didn't know that she would be asked to quantify it, determine its length. And yet, it was something she'd thought about. When did she know? New Earth? Sometime before? She'd sensed that Chakotay had always known – from that first moment on the bridge after he'd transported over from the Val Jean – that look in his eyes was more than betrayal and distrust. There was interest and desire – an immediate connection. But surely it wasn't love at that moment – it was much too soon for either of them.

Still, though, he'd arrived at that moment before she had, so perhaps for her it was New Earth.

"I guess…I've known for years."

"That must have been difficult…being in love with your first officer…the command structure…"

She glanced down at her hands, folded over each other on top of her knees, not sure what to say. At times, it had been difficult…almost unbearable. Times when she wanted nothing more than to go to him, be with him, hold him and have him hold her. But at other times, sometimes for weeks and months…maybe years…those times they'd grown apart… it hadn't been difficult at all. Somewhere along the way she'd gotten very good at burying that part that loved him so deeply in a corner of her heart and mind that she rarely thought about it. And those were the times when she'd known that she was hurting him… Those were the times when he'd eventually turned to others: Riley, Kellin, Seven.

Because they were there, and she wasn't. _You're here now_. His words from yesterday were there in her mind – soft, sure. Could it really be that easy? Could they really forgive each other for all those years? Could he really forgive her?

"Kathryn?"

She looked up, suddenly realizing that she was lost in her own thoughts and that Paul was still sitting across from her.

"We're not in a command structure anymore," she stated.

"No, you're not. And you can't blame yourself for all those years that you were."

She closed her eyes for a moment, felt a small smile lift the corners of her lips. Then she looked back at him. "You're good," she said quietly, impressed with his ability to read her silence so well.

He nodded in acknowledgment. "Just like you, I've been doing my job for a long time." His eyes gazed steadily into hers. "But you don't have that job anymore. And neither does he."

She swallowed tightly and looked away.

"He loves you."

"I know."

"It really is that simple, Kathryn. If you let it be."

~vVv~

"Put all your weight on me."

His arm was draped loosely around her shoulders, his hand barely touching the back of her neck.

"I'm not going to break," she insisted, wrapping her own arm around his back, the other under his elbow.

"Oh, I know that," he responded with a characteristic dimpled grin. "If s-seven years in the Delta Quadrant didn't break you… I d-doubt I will."

"Then would you hold on tighter." An edge of exasperation stole into her voice. "I won't let you fall."

His eyes caught hers. "Too late for that," he murmured.

And she sighed, understanding the deeper meaning, the play on words. But now was not the time for romantic banter. He would be late for his therapy session, and she'd been charged with getting him there.

"Chakotay, hold on and stand up on three." She saw his lips purse, possibly with another teasing comment, so she put an end to it. "That's an order, Commander." And before he could argue, she counted, "One, two, three." And she lifted as he pushed one hand against the mattress.

He gained his feet, and she steadied him, still holding him close. She touched one hand to his hip, and he took a half step, shifted around, and then held tightly to her shoulders as she helped lower him into the wheelchair.

Before she had a chance to draw away and straighten, he pulled her forward and kissed her deeply. He felt stiff, tense muscles melt under the arm he still rested around her shoulders, his hand gently rubbing her neck.

She leaned into him, tempted to sink onto his lap, but she braced her hands against the wheelchair's armrests and enjoyed the moment, finally drawing back from lack of oxygen.

"You take my breath away," she smiled, nuzzling his cheek, then kissing his forehead, lips pressed against the lines of his tattoo.

"Breathing…is highly overrated," he sighed, taking in a deep breath nonetheless.

"But necessary," she laughed, straightening and taking a position behind the chair. "Just like your therapy." And without another word, she was pushing him out the door and down the hall.

~vVv~

He pushed himself harder than he had the day before. Kathryn sat and watched, knowing that Scott wouldn't let him take it too far. But still, she was equally impressed and worried about him when he finally collapsed back into the wheelchair and allowed her to push him back to his room. He was silent on the return trip, breath still heavy and deep.

As they waited for the lift, she let her hands smooth over his shoulders, kneading the solid muscles. He leaned his head back, gave her a tired smile. She leaned over and planted an upside down kiss on his forehead.

"You'll be walking on your own before you know it."

He'd walked the length of the parallel bars twice that afternoon – would have gone for a third length if Scott had let him.

He just nodded, letting his head rest to one side, and she knew he was thinking about something – something he wasn't ready to share yet. So she let the silence stretch.

Until they reached the room.

"Say it," she prompted, kneeling in front of his wheelchair, her hands placed lightly on his knees.

He smiled, hearing the familiar words that he used so often with her. _Two can play at this game_, her eyes seemed to say.

He reached out and ran his hand over her hair, down along her cheek, fingers touching her chin. He licked his lips, teeth catching at the lower one, hesitating.

"Chakotay…"

Taking a deep breath, he responded. "I want you… to go home… t-tonight." He was tired, his speech slow, but the words were firm.

She immediately shook her head and felt his hand move to the back of her neck, holding her more securely.

"Yes," he insisted. "I love you… b-being here. But you need to go home…and go to…work tomorrow." He drew in another deep breath, trying to steady his voice. "Scott said… they would move me to the rehab unit...tomorrow. A lot more therapy. More… work."

And she understood. "And I'm a distraction?"

He nodded his dimpled grin at her. "A pleasant one, but… We b-both have… work to do, Kathryn."

She knew he was right, knew that she couldn't stay indefinitely, knew that she had to get back to her office eventually. He was getting better, and he needed the space and time to improve even more…without her.

"Dinner?" she questioned, knowing he would understand.

And he did. "Every night," he whispered, leaning over and catching her lips with his.

~vVv~

Her house felt empty, and she longed to turn around and go back – longed to be lying on the cot in the corner of his room listening to him breathe. But she secured the door behind her, picked up the two suitcases that were still situated in her entry hall, and walked purposefully into her bedroom.

Chakotay was right. She needed to get back to work, needed to focus on something other than him.

All so easier said than done, she realized an hour later as she lay wide awake in bed. She'd taken a hot bath, put on her nightgown, read a few pages of a good book – then turned off the light, planning on getting a good night's sleep. And all she could think about was Chakotay.

It was so silent – no gentle snoring, no rustling of blankets, no muffled gasps, no softs moans, no nightmares. At least, not that she could hear. And that realization frightened her – he was doing all those things, only she wasn't there. She rolled over on her side, and, in the dim light, her eyes caught the holoimage on her bedside table. She smiled, wondering if he were doing the same thing – gazing at her image, thinking about her. She chose to believe he was, and that thought stayed with her and finally helped ease her into a much needed restful sleep.

~vVv~

He lay on his side, something he had only just started to do now that he had more control over his left arm and leg. The position afforded him a better view of the corner of the room. The cot where she'd slept was still there, and the emptiness caused a lump to form in this throat, and in his chest – a hollow feeling that only her presence could ease.

He rolled onto his back again, stared at the ceiling. How long had he lived with that feeling – that empty hole that only Kathryn Janeway could fill? Oh, what he felt now was different. He knew that. Tonight he was just lonely – he knew, now, that he wasn't alone. He knew that the commitment that they'd made to each other was real, tangible – an admission for both of them that had taken far too long. But he understood the extenuating circumstances – he'd always understood them. And so had she. Too well.

Tonight, he just missed her.

The way the moonlight would fall through the window and drop bits of pale illumination across her face and hair. The way she would wrap her arms around her pillow, pulling it close under her head and against her chest – holding on so tight at times that he wondered what she dreaming. The way her breathing would grow deeper as the night wore on, heavier, louder in the quiet stillness of the room – not snoring, not really. He would never be the one to accuse Kathryn Janeway of snoring – but it was close. And he loved the sound. Missed it.

He shifted back onto his side, his eyes going to the holoimage that she had placed beside the bed a few days ago. How many nights had he fallen asleep gazing at her image? He sighed. Not as many as he'd like. He'd only dare place the holoimage on his bedside table a few months ago. He'd had it on _Voyager_, but he hadn't displayed it – kept it safe in a drawer with other images. And then when he'd returned to Earth there had been Seven for a while. But when that was over, and the truth and loneliness hit him hard, he'd taken it out and placed it nearby. Close where he could see her. He wondered when she had done the same thing. How long had Kathryn slept with his image beside her bed? And in her heart?

Somehow he knew she was looking at the same image now, and that solid realization helped him relax and finally close his eyes.

~vVv~


	18. Chapter 18

They moved him to a new room on the rehab wing early the next morning. He'd just gotten settled in when Scott showed up.

"D-Didn't expect to see you…this early," he greeted the physical therapist as he came through the door.

"Oh, you'll see a lot more of me now that you're officially in rehab. Besides, Taryn thought you might be a little more comfortable with me this morning. How about a shower?"

Chakotay blinked. "Water or sonic?"

"Water. It'll feel good on those muscles. And we'll work on shaving, too."

Chakotay ran a hand over his cheeks, still relatively smooth from his last shave. "Don't shave every day."

"We'll still practice," he said, pushing a wheelchair close to the bed. "But first – you have to get up." He looked toward the ceiling where a handgrip swung from a top frame that went around the bed. "You're going to use that to get out of bed and into this chair on your own."

Chakotay followed Scott's gaze, his mind already thinking of the steps he'd need to take to accomplish the task he'd just set for him. "I can do that." He met the challenge head on.

"All right." Scott grinned and stepped back, willing to let him try it on his own.

Chakotay sat up straighter, pulling away from the pillows that cushioned his back. He pushed the blankets to one side, shifted his body to the left, and maneuvered his legs over the side of the bed, using his right hand to move his left thigh into place. The bed was low enough to allow his feet to rest solidly on the floor, and he looked up to see that the handgrip was in reach. He realized that the grip would take the place of Scott's and Kathryn's shoulders, so he would simply pull up as his left arm pushed. As he wrapped the fingers of his right hand around the grip, he hoped he had enough upper body strength to lift himself into a standing position. If not, he'd probably end up flat on his face.

He glanced back at Scott, and the younger man held the leg brace out to him. "Put this on first."

Chakotay released his hold on the grip and took the plastic and Velcro brace in both hands. He'd put it on before during therapy, so he was pleased when he had no problems putting it on now. He positioned it next to his left leg, and then used his right hand to help lift the leg into it, fastened it securely around the top of his thigh, above his knee, top of his calf, and just above his ankle.

Scott positioned the wheelchair to the left of him and reached down to secure the wheel brakes. "Once you're standing, move your left hand to the armrest and lower yourself down."

"Easy, huh?" Chakotay murmured, a flicker of doubt skirting through his mind.

Scott just nodded. "You can do it."

Chakotay took a deep breath, reached up and tightened his hand around the grip again, braced his left hand, and pushed and pulled at the same time. He felt his body sway as he stood, but, unlike other times, there was no dizziness; the floor beneath his feet was solid. And it felt damn good to be standing on his own.

"All right. What next?" Scott asked, taking him through the thought process.

Chakotay looked up from his feet, studied the position of the wheelchair, realized that he needed to turn his body slightly to the right in order to sink down into it. That meant a quarter step around with his left leg. He pushed it out, felt that it was sluggish, but it moved and held beneath him. Reaching down with his left hand, he braced it against the armrest, continuing to hold tightly to the handgrip as he lowered himself into the chair.

He let go of the breath he didn't even realize that he was holding and felt Scott's hand on his shoulder, a gentle squeeze.

"Good work," he assured him, reaching down and releasing the wheel brakes. "Just don't try this unless someone's here with you." He stepped toward the bathroom. "Time to check out the facilities."

Chakotay lifted his feet onto the footrests and followed him, his hands turning the wheels of the chair; even his left arm felt stronger as he maneuvered across the room. That's why he had a standard wheelchair instead of an antigrav one – his upper body needed the workout.

He joined Scott at the open doorway of the bathroom and looked inside. The room wasn't overly large and appeared to be fairly basic: sink, toilet, open shower stall with a long low bench. And handrails – everywhere.

"You can leave the chair here in the doorway and get around by holding the railings," Scott explained. "Technically, you won't be taking any more steps than you do on the parallel bars – you just won't be stepping in a straight line."

Chakotay studied the layout, realizing that Scott was right. The sink, toilet, and shower were all within a few steps of each other; he'd just have to be careful with turning and sitting.

"I'll be here to spot you," Scott said, setting the wheel brakes again and showing Chakotay how to set and release them himself. He indicated the sides of the doors. "Use these handrails to stand up."

Chakotay grasped the rails on either side of the door, planted his feet on the tile floor, and, after a silent count of three in his head, pulled himself back into a standing position. He felt Scott's hands on his back, steadying him; then the hands moved to the ties of his gown.

"I hope you're not modest, Commander, because we're taking this off."

Chakotay laughed as Scott untied the back of the gown. "Lived on t-too many small ships…to be modest. Close quarters."

"That's what I figured," Scott said as he helped Chakotay pull off his gown. He glanced over at the toilet. "I can give you a little privacy to take care of business if you want."

Chakotay shook his head. "Don't have a…lot of business right now, but I would like to pee standing up."

Scott smiled. "Funny the things we take for granted." He placed his hands on Chakotay's shoulders. "All right. Hold onto the railing along the sink and take a step. I'll be right behind you."

Chakotay reached over with his right hand and took hold of the railing. Letting his left hand slip away from the other handrail, he took a tentative step toward the toilet, leading with his right foot and pulling his left foot up to meet it.

"That's it," Scott encouraged.

And Chakotay almost laughed as the absurdity of the moment flashed through his mind – he felt like a two-year-old! But he didn't let his thoughts linger on that image – there was too much work to be done. And so he took another step, found that he was close enough to hold on to the handrail on the wall with his left hand.

And this time he did laugh.

"What?" Scott questioned from behind him.

Chakotay let his laugh trail off into a sigh. "I've got…plenty of handrails…not enough hands."

And Scott understood his predicament. "Hold on to the railing with your right hand. It's stronger."

Chakotay followed his advice, and a few moments later he accomplished something that he hadn't done in almost a week – something that he had never imagined would take him so much time and planning and forethought – something that your average two-year-old should be damn proud of - peeing from a vertical position.

He couldn't help but smile. Something so simple, and yet it was a huge step towards independence – a step back into his life.

"All right." Scott was directing him again. "Take hold of the wall railing again, and turn so you can sit down on the shower bench."

Chakotay did as he was told, and, in less than a minute, he was seated on the bench, and Scott was placing a shower bin next to him – soap, washcloths, razor, shaving lotion – everything he would need in easy reach. He glanced down at the brace on his leg. "Waterproof?" he questioned.

And Scott nodded. "Shower program one," he instructed, and the jets came on soft and gentle, angled from Chakotay's chest down, hot water pouring over his skin. And it did feel good.

Scott soaped a washcloth and handed it to him. Chakotay reached for it with his right hand.

"Wash with your right hand first, but then use your left."

Chakotay looked up at him, slight confusion tracing over his face. "I'm right…handed."

"Yes, but it's your left hand that needs strengthening. Every moment is a therapy opportunity."

Chakotay nodded, and following Scott's instructions, he proceeded to bathe himself as the hot water worked wonders on his sore muscles.

~vVv~

Fifteen minutes later, Chakotay wiped away the last traces of white foam from his face. Bathing with his left hand had been hard enough; thankfully, Scott didn't make him shave left handed as well.

He dropped the washcloth into the bin and flexed his shoulders under the towel that Scott had draped around him after he'd turned off the shower jets. He hadn't realized just how tense he'd been feeling – how the stress of the last week had gathered at the base of his neck and tightened the muscles along his back. He felt more relaxed now, refreshed, ready to face the rest of the day, which, after hearing Scott outline his therapy sessions, promised to be long and demanding. But Chakotay was determined to come back from this, so he wasn't complaining. In fact, he was ready to get on with things, so he was wondering why it was taking Scott so long to come back with his clothes when he looked up and found Taryn standing in the bathroom's open doorway.

"I heard you peed standing up," she remarked rather matter-of-factly.

But still, Chakotay blushed and glanced down, thankful that Scott had draped a towel over his waist as well. While he really liked his occupational therapist, he was still getting used to her straightforward approach.

She took a step into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. It was then that he noticed the clothing she held. Before he had a chance to comment, Scott appeared in the doorway.

"All right, Chakotay, Taryn's taking it from here. I will see you later this afternoon. We're going to work with the wheelchair some more and then get you started on a walker. That's going to give you a lot more freedom and flexibility."

Chakotay nodded. "Sounds…good. Thanks, Scott."

"You're welcome. See you later." And he was gone; Chakotay could hear the outer door sliding closed behind him.

"You did a good job shaving," Taryn observed as she leaned over and dropped a pair of boxers on the bench. "See what you can do with these."

And Chakotay sighed. Today looked like it was going to be one challenge after another.

~vVv~

He'd had to take his brace off first, before he could tackle the boxers, but he'd managed. Then he'd had to put the brace back on his left leg. Over that, he'd pulled on a pair of sweats, and then a t-shirt.

Now, he was standing at the sink trying to figure out how to brush his teeth. "I keep…n-needing a third hand," he grimaced, his right hand holding onto the railing on the wall, and the left hand wrapped around the toothbrush. How was he supposed to get the paste out of the tube without another hand?

"Think it through. Look around your environment to see what can help you."

The tube of toothpaste sat on a ledge below the mirror where the toothbrush had been moments before, and he realized that he should have picked up the toothpaste first. He set the brush back down, took the tube, and tried flipping the cap open. He quickly realized that his left hand wasn't going to comply. It was one thing to pick up objects with it, but fine manipulation was still difficult. He put the tube back down.

Reaching out, he wrapped his left hand around another hand railing, and used his right hand to pick up the toothpaste. He didn't feel as secure holding on with the left hand, but he kept his balance.

Now, he was able to flip the cap, and he carefully squeezed the paste on the brush.

"That's it. You're still used to thinking with two hands," Taryn smiled. "Until you're steadier on your feet, you've got to hold onto a railing or handgrip. So think about sequences. Always ask yourself what do I do first? What comes next?"

He nodded, picked up the brush, and held it under the water tap which immediately activated. A minute later, his teeth thoroughly cleaned, he rinsed the brush, set it back on the ledge, and then cupped his hand under the water stream, filling it, and lifting it to his mouth to rinse. A couple of spits later, he'd finished brushing his teeth – almost a ten-minute task.

Taryn took note of his frustrated expression, knew what he was thinking. "It'll get easier – and faster. It's like piloting a shuttle – very few people master it the first time."

Chakotay gave her a slow grin, imagining what Tom would say to that.

~vVv~

He spent most of the morning with Taryn, first in his room, and then in the occupational therapy room. He'd dressed, undressed, and redressed at least three times before she let him get back into his wheelchair and leave. He had to admit, though, that by the last time he felt a lot more comfortable with the process.

Once in the OT room, she had him doing a lot of work with his left hand, exercises to improve his fine motor skills. Since he was right-handed, he would be more apt to simply not use the hand, opting for the stronger more dominant hand. She explained that for some patients they would actually immobilize the non-affected arm, thus forcing the patient to use the weaker side. She wasn't planning on doing that with him, but she did expect him to use his left hand as much as possible.

And so at noontime, Taryn accompanied him back to his room where they ate lunch together – left handed, which was easier for her since she admitted to being ambidextrous. Chakotay, literally on the other hand, had no such skill, and by the end of the meal had more food on him than in him.

He sighed as he used his left hand to swipe a napkin over his chest. "I think a…b-baby could do better than this."

Taryn gave him a reassuring smile. "You did just fine. The more you work at it, the easier it'll get."

Chakotay nodded and leaned back against the pillows, a yawn escaping.

"Sorry if I wore you out," Taryn smiled again. "The first day in rehab can be a bit overwhelming." She glanced down at the padd she'd taken from her pocket. "According to your schedule, you have a counseling session at 1330, and Scott's coming back at 1430. It's 1230 now – I think you can sneak in a nap if you want." She looked back up, and her smile grew wider when she saw that his eyes were already closed.

~vVv~


	19. Chapter 19

"I'm beginning to think I'm not needed around here," Kathryn sighed, accepting the cup of coffee that Jack held out to her. It was her third cup of the morning, and, if truth be told, one of the best qualities Jack Hampton had – he knew how to keep his boss supplied with caffeine! He also knew how to manage her office – much better than she did.

He kept her up-to-date on all the important issues that affected the Federation and Starfleet. He prepared her conference notes, created detailed presentations, managed her meeting schedule, screened all incoming messages, and headed off any unwanted business – most of the Starfleet brass dealt with Jack, and most of them probably preferred it that way. That left Kathryn the time and freedom to craft her own schedule of meetings – allowed her the luxury of dealing with the issues that most intrigued her.

Unfortunately, despite her interesting two weeks on Vulcan and the political ramifications of the conference, she was having difficulty finding work intriguing. Her thoughts kept turning back to Chakotay, and Jack literally seemed to be bribing her with coffee just to keep her focused on the project at hand – crafting her culminating presentation that would need to be delivered to the Federation Council next week.

She leaned back in her desk chair and issued another exasperated sigh. "Oh, Jack, Starfleet should just have you make the presentation – you'll do much better dealing with all those political types than I will."

"You're probably right. But I'm not Captain Kathryn Janeway, heroine of the Delta Quadrant," he replied with a broad grin. "And besides, no matter how good your notes are, you were the one who sat through ten days of conference meetings, and your ability to see beyond the facts and draw on the nuances of the assembled representatives is a key component and vital to the success of this initiative."

She cast a weary gaze at him. "So you're saying I'm the only one who can do this?"

"No, I'm saying you're the one who does it best." He studied the expression on her face. He knew where her thoughts had been all morning, but he hadn't ventured onto that topic until now. "And, as much as he may need you, there are others at Starfleet Medical who can help him right now. He'll be fine without you." And he saw her wince. "For a little while."

His last words brought about a gentle appreciative smile. Jack always knew what needed to be said, and he wasn't afraid to say it. "Sally is one lucky lady. You know just how much to say and how to say it." Her smile broadened. "Which reminds me of a former first officer of mine."

And despite his talent at keeping his boss on task, Jack knew that sometimes you just had to join in on her chosen topic of discussion. And besides, it was time for lunch.

He got up and went over to the replicator, glancing back at her. "The usual?" he asked.

And she nodded and thanked him when he returned with a chicken sandwich and fruit salad, an identical plate for himself.

"So, define the relationship now," he ventured, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Kathryn blinked at him.

And this time, Jack sighed. "Former first officer, good friend – better friend in the past month – and now…"

She shook her head. The freckles softened his approach, but Jack could be just as blunt as Tom Paris. "Surely, you've been tuned into the grapevine," she countered. "Even the Doctor has been monitoring communications."

He shrugged noncommittally. "I've been too busy running a certain captain's office while she's been away. You tell me."

Kathryn sighed again, took a long sip of her coffee, then looked up and smiled. She'd only known Jack Hampton for four months, but every day she found herself wishing that he'd been a member of _Voyager'_s crew – found herself feeling like he had been.

"I love him, Jack."

He nodded. "So, committed?"

"What?"

"Your defined relationship – committed."

"Very much."

Jack grinned. "That's what I thought."

"Then why…"

"I just wanted to hear you say it."

And Kathryn knew when she was being teased. She leaned back in her chair, pointed a finger at him, shook it slightly. "You know, if you weren't so damn good at your job, I might give serious thought to replacing you."

And they both laughed, knowing that would never happen.

~vVv~

Kathryn had promised to return to work and not hover, but B'Elanna had made no assurances. Her schedule was more flexible and between meetings at Starfleet Headquarters and taking care of Miral, she found herself wandering down the halls of rehab looking for Chakotay's new room just as Taryn was leaving.

'B'Elanna, right?" the red-haired woman smiled as B'Elanna turned toward the door.

"Yes, how did you know?"

Taryn's smile broadened. "He's told me all about you. Says you kick his butt in hoverball on a regular basis."

B'Elanna let a slow grin spread across her face. "He admitted to that? He always claims that he lets me win."

Taryn shrugged. "Men! Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

B'Elanna nodded in agreement, but pressed her lips tightly together for a few moments before saying, "Don't want to live without him."

And Taryn, realizing what she was thinking, quickly reached out and touched her hand to B'Elanna's arm. "He's doing great. He's gonna come back all the way. I'm sure of it."

B'Elanna gave her a grateful smile, and took a deep breath. "Thanks. I came to oversee lunch."

"I'm afraid you missed it. He ate everything – left handed. That's one of our goals – getting him to use that left hand as much as possible. So if you could help out on that…"

B'Elanna grinned again. "Oh, don't worry. We'll keep him in line. With all of us on his case, he doesn't stand a chance of wandering off course."

"Thanks." She glanced back over her shoulder. "I'm afraid therapy and lunch wore him out, though. He's fast asleep."

B'Elanna looked toward the door. "I'll just sit with him for a while, if that's all right?"

"Of course, it is." She gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "You have a good day. I'll see you later."

B'Elanna watched the therapist head off down the hall, and then turned and activated the door. The first thing she heard as she entered the room was the sound of Chakotay snoring, something he always claimed not to do. Her mind went back to the first time she'd accused him of it on the _Val Jean._

"_I don't snore, Torres."_

_And B'Elanna laughed, glancing across the mess hall table. "Then what do you call that loud annoying sound that comes out of you when you're sleeping?"_

_He shook his head. "I don't make loud annoying sounds," he said with finality._

_But she wasn't giving in. With a roll of her eyes, she turned toward Mike Ayala. "Back me up here, Ayala. You've heard it. The man snores!"_

_Mike blinked and let out a long breath. "Sorry, Cap, but I gotta agree with her. You can get pretty loud at times."_

_Chakotay cast a hard glare in Mike's direction, then slid his gaze toward Tuvok. "So, do I keep you up at night as well?"_

"_On the contrary, Captain, even with my finely attuned sense of hearing, I find the uneven hoarse sounds caused by the vibration of your soft palate to be somewhat melodic. Quite reminiscent of early Klingon concertos."_

_B'Elanna and Mike dissolved into laughter, and Chakotay couldn't help but grin._

The sound of a snore stopped halfway, and B'Elanna blinked, brought back to her present surroundings by the sudden silence. She glanced over at the bed, saw sleepy brown eyes peering at her from under drooping lids. And she frowned. She hadn't wanted to wake him.

And Chakotay read the expression that crossed her face. "Don't worry. Wasn't asleep anyway."

And she smiled and walked closer to the bed, sinking down in the chair beside it. "The hell you were. You were snoring like a damn warp drive with severe power stabilization fluctuations."

Chakotay's eyes widened as he pushed himself up in bed, pressing his back against the pillows to gain leverage. "And just what does that sound like?"

"Your snoring."

He twisted his mouth into a grudging grin. "So you claim."

B'Elanna leaned back in the chair, let her legs stretch out in front of her. "So, I ran into Taryn. She says they're working you pretty hard down here in rehab." She let her eyes travel up around the bed, taking in the frame and hand grips, then around the room – wheelchair, walker – then down to the end of the bed where she could see the outline of Chakotay's leg brace under his sweatpants.

"Yeah." He grinned suddenly. "I peed standing up."

And B'Elanna laughed. Taryn was right. He was going to come back all the way.

~vVv~

"So, you loved her from the very beginning?"

Somewhere in the last fifteen minutes they'd gone from talking about his stroke and lack of mobility to talking about Kathryn – those wandering circles that always led back to her. And Chakotay sighed, not sure he was ready for this. It was one thing to travel those circular paths on his own - lingering on the good memories and avoiding the bad – but quite another to discuss them with a therapist, an outside navigator who might not let you stray off course when the straight road became lost.

He looked over at Paul, noted the patient expression on his face. He wouldn't push him. Even after only a few sessions, he knew that. The man knew how to wait and let you find your way through the dark wood on your own.

Another sigh, a deep breath, and an answer. "From the…beginning... I'm not sure. I felt… something… strong, but… I was too jaded to fall that quickly. I don't…" And still another sigh.

"You don't trust that easily," Paul finished for him.

And Chakotay nodded.

"You still don't."

It was a hard statement, but true. And yet, he trusted more now than he did then. Once, he would have counted the people he completely trusted on one hand. Now – maybe two.

"I trust her."

"And you love her?"

He nodded, a gentle smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "I didn't know…right at the beginning. But… it didn't take long. She's…"

"Kathryn Janeway."

And his smile broadened, images of Kathryn filling his mind: standing on the bridge, hands on hips; reflected on the viewscreen from the middle of a Borg cube, determination hard on her face and in her voice; looking up at him on New Earth, sunlight glinting in her hair; wrapped in a towel, drops of water glistening on pale, bare skin.

"She loves you."

Chakotay lowered his eyes. "I know."

"And you can trust her… with everything."

He looked back up, meeting Paul's gaze. He knew. Those times, when the road had been lost and the woods had grown dark, when the trust between them had stretched and almost broken… They'd found their way back, the path had straightened, light had replaced the shadows, but still… There were words unsaid, thoughts unspoken… Silences that needed to be heard.

~vVv~


	20. Chapter 20

His afternoon session with Scott seemed twice as long and twice as hard as his morning session with Taryn. At first, he spent a lot of time in his room, learning to transfer his body more quickly and efficiently from the bed to the wheelchair and back. And just when he had that almost perfected, Scott placed the walker in front of him.

And Chakotay had eyed him warily.

It was one thing to push yourself into a standing position, and then sit back down, but quite another to stand, stay standing, and then attempt to maneuver around the room. Scott claimed it was similar to walking the parallel bars, but the walker didn't feel as solid and supporting. Even the handgrips in the bathroom were stationary – they didn't move freely as the walker did.

Still, with Scott's assistance, he managed to shuffle across the room and into the bathroom and back using the walker.

"You'll get more confident with it," Scott assured as Chakotay sank down onto the edge of his bed, releasing a heavy sigh as he released his hold on the metal frame.

He nodded. "I know. It's just…"

Scott gave him a pat on the shoulder. "It's a lot… And you let me know if I start pushing too hard."

He shook his head at the therapist's words. "Don't worry. It's not too much… Just... tiring." He took a deep breath, let it out slowly.

"In that case, you rest." Scott grinned. "Five minutes. And then back into your chair and down to the gym."

It was a long afternoon, to say the least. Long, hard, but rewarding. Chakotay could feel himself growing stronger – his strength and ability on his right side was normal, and the left side seemed to be getting there. But by the time he returned to his room, he was looking forward to another hot shower.

He sat on the shower bench fully clothed and sighed. He was exhausted and the thought of undressing seemed almost insurmountable. He'd left his wheelchair in the doorway and managed the few steps across the bathroom floor, but now he wasn't sure if he had any strength left. He looked up, hoping to see Scott there, but the therapist had gone down to the nurse's station after Chakotay had gotten settled on the bench. He'd promised to be right back, but he'd been gone several minutes. Chakotay wondered what was taking him so long. And he hated to call for help, grudgingly admitting to himself that he was letting pride get in the way. But still… He wondered how long he could just sit there before Scott came back and figured out he wasn't doing anything.

And then he heard the outer door slide open. Scott was his first thought, but he was wrong.

The woman who appeared in the doorway was Kathryn.

She leaned against the doorframe and smiled. "Standing up, uh?" And her eyes glanced toward the toilet.

He blushed and his lips twitched into a grin. "B'Elanna told you." His voice held a note of accusation.

She shook her head, her smile broadening. "You told her."

His cheeks grew hotter and he faltered for words. "It just…came out."

And this time, Kathryn laughed. "Oh, I'm sure it did. Being vertical probably helped."

He glanced down at his knees and then back up. "Could I get a break here?"

And the expression on her face softened. "I can get Scott, or…"

"Or what?" His eyes held hers, and he nodded. Knowing what she was offering, and accepting.

Kathryn stepped over and knelt in front of him. She reached down and untied his shoes, pulling them off, and then removing his socks. Her fingers massaged each foot, thumbs rubbing along the soles.

"Have you been doing a lot of walking today?"

He nodded. "Some… More than other days."

She sat up and smoothed her hands over his shoulders, and he lifted his arms and allowed her to pull his t-shirt over his head, then sat very still as her hands ran down along his stomach, going to the tie on his sweatpants and undoing it. He shifted from one side to the other as she carefully pulled the pants off over his legs. And then she sat back on her heels, her hands resting on his brace. She started to pull on one of the fasteners, but Chakotay placed a hand on top of hers.

"I can manage now…"

She looked up. "I know. Just let me get this brace off, and I'll give you some privacy."

She bent back to her work, and in less than a minute, she'd removed the brace and set it to one side. Gently, her fingers touched the skin above his knee, brushed at the pressure marks that the brace sometimes left. "Do they hurt?" she asked.

He shook his head, and then gasped softly when she bent closer and kissed the reddened spots, her breath warm on his skin. His fingers traced through her hair, and she looked back up at him, her eyes filled with love and longing. And she smiled. "I missed you today."

He touched her cheek. "I missed you, too."

And then she took a deep breath and drew back, pushed herself up to her feet – pulled the mantle of captain back into place. "I'll leave you to your shower." She stepped over to the open door, but looked back over her shoulder. "And go tell Scott he can come back now."

And Chakotay shook his head, a wide dimpled grin breaking across his face. "You're a tease, Kathryn Janeway."

And she winked. "Only with you."

~vVv~

A half hour later, he was showered and dressed and back in his chair – thanks to Scott's help – and wheeling down the hall toward Starfleet Medical's cafeteria. He and Kathryn had decided to go out for dinner.

She was behind him, only half pushing as he was half turning the wheels on his own. Together, he figured, they'd get there – a thought that could apply to more than reaching the cafeteria, he realized as a thousand other thoughts ran through his mind.

He felt her brush a hand along his neck. "You're very quiet," she observed. "I hope I wasn't too forward in the bathroom."

And he sighed, tilting his head back and grinning up at her. "Not forward… enough." And that earned him a playful swat on the shoulder.

"Still, though, what are you thinking about?"

"Us. Tonight." He reached up, took hold of the hand that rested on his shoulder, held it close under his chin. "Is this our official first date?"

Kathryn stopped in front of the turbolift, pressed the button. "I hadn't really thought about it. We've shared so many dinners together. This isn't exactly the first one."

"But it's the first time we've gone out since… Well, since…"

"Since I told you I loved you?"

And he nodded as the lift doors opened and they got on. "Ground floor," Kathryn intoned. And the lift began to move.

"I really didn't think that…Starfleet Medical cafeteria would b-be our first dinner date."

Kathryn leaned over and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "Oh, I have high hopes. We'll be able to watch the sun set from the windows, and I hear the replicator makes a wonderful vegetable biryani."

"Better than your grandmother's recipe?"

"We'll just have to wait and see. Besides," she laughed as the doors opened and they exited the lift, "it's not the food I'm looking forward to. It's the company."

And he kissed the hand that he still held. "Me, too."

~vVv~

"I thought you were…teasing about the vegetable biryani," Chakotay said as he lifted the last spoonful to his lips, careful not to spill it.

Apparently, Kathryn had gotten the memo; she'd made him eat with his left hand. And he'd actually done quite well. As he swallowed, he glanced down at the cloth napkin that he'd tucked into the collar of his shirt – only a few spots, far less than at lunch.

"Oh, no, I never tease about biryani." Kathryn smiled, following his gaze, knowing what he was thinking, pleased that most of it had ended up in him and not on him. "Was it as good as my grandmother's recipe?"

Chakotay lowered his spoon back to his plate, pulled the napkin away from his neck, and wiped his lips. "Not quite," he answered, laying the napkin on the table, "but the company was exceptional."

"Thank you, kind sir," she smiled as she stood, picking up his plate and hers and carrying them over to the recycler.

She returned with two cups, coffee for her and hot tea for him. He reached for it with his left hand, but steadied his hold with his right. "Best to b-be careful with hot liquid," he explained.

And she nodded in agreement. "I'm still impressed with your dexterity."

"Getting there," he smiled, lifting the cup and taking a tentative sip.

Kathryn sat back in her chair, taking a sip of her coffee and studying him across the rim of the cup. "You seem to be getting there quite well," she observed, setting her cup down and gazing at him thoughtfully.

They'd found a table in the corner, and they did have an excellent view of the sun as it set in long shadows across the lawn, and the hills, and the roofs of the city. The sky gentled into streaks of orange, and gold, and pink, and purple, the scattered clouds bunching into silver-tinted ripples. And fading dapples of light fell through the window and dropped onto their hands and arms, glinted in Kathryn's hair, gave both of their faces a healthy glow – something that Chakotay needed, Kathryn realized as she reached over and touched her fingers to his cheek – no longer sallow, but a familiar bronze.

"I like ending my day with you," she murmured, and then smiled as he turned his face and kissed her fingertips.

He set his cup down and caught her hand in his. "I always liked ending my day with you."

And she knew what he was thinking. All those evenings in the Delta Quadrant when they'd shared dinner and drinks…and time together.

She sighed, threading her fingers with his. "I like starting my day with you."

And he knew what she was thinking.

"Kathryn…don't…" He pulled away from her grasp, dropped both of his hands onto the tabletop, fingers spreading flat.

"Chakotay…" She covered his hands with hers.

He shook his head. "It's too easy…"

"What?"

"To need you…"

She closed her hands around his and sighed. "Is that such a bad thing?"

He looked down at their joined hands, a flash of a dimpled grin crossing his features before the lines of his face settled into a more serious expression. He licked his tongue across his lower lip and exhaled a heavy breath. "Not bad… just… a little scary," he admitted.

"For both of us."

Lifting his eyes, he looked into hers, saw the truth behind her words. They were both afraid, yet assured at the same time. Sure of each other's love, but fearful of the possibilities and the parameters.

"Paul wants to meet with both of us tomorrow," he said softly.

And she nodded. "I know. He sent me a message."

"Is that…all right?" His voice was low, almost hesitant.

She tightened her grasp. "I'm committed, Chakotay. And you know how I am once I make a decision about something."

He gave a gentle laugh, and the grin that crossed his face lingered longer this time. "Oh, I do know how you are once you're…committed. You get that…look on your face."

"Which look?"

"Furrowed brow, p-pursed lips, narrowed gaze."

She sighed, pulled her hands away, and slapped his hands playfully. "I do not."

"Yes…you do." He wrapped both of his hands around his teacup, lifted it carefully, and took another sip, savoring the flavor and the warmth, enjoying the play of emotions crossing Kathryn's face and settling into the very expression he had described: brow furrowed, lips pursed, gaze narrowed.

And his grin broadened.

"What?"

"You're…doing it now," he laughed again, and then sighed, so grateful that he was the focus of that look.

And she sighed, too, taking a sip of her coffee, and silently conceding.

~vVv~

She had watched his day catch up with him as they'd finished their drinks, his cup shifting from his left hand to his right, and then finally onto the table even before he'd finished. She could tell he was tired, could see the lines of exhaustion edged around his mouth – more than just those beloved dimples. And the puffiness under his eyes was more pronounced.

He needed to be in bed.

And so he'd let her push him back to his room, too tired to turn the wheels on his own, too tired to protest. And he'd let her support him as he transferred from his chair to the edge of the bed.

But not too tired to let her undress him and tuck him in.

"Joseph can help," he insisted, even as she knelt in front of him, her hands tugging gently at the waistband of his sweatpants. "He and Beth…weren't assigned to the floor. They were assigned to me."

"Can I assign myself to you?" She looked up, giving him a suggestive smile.

And Chakotay laughed, covered her hands with his own, stilling their motion. He gazed into the storm of her eyes, and sighed. "Go home…Kathryn."

And then he lowered his face to hers and kissed her – a long kiss, deep, lingering, promising – but over far sooner than either really wanted it to be. He drew back, then lifted her hands to his chin, kissed her fingers. "I do love you," he murmured. "And I want you. I just…"

"Can't need me right now," she finished his unspoken thought.

And he nodded, letting go of her hands and brushing his fingers through her hair. "I'll see you…tomorrow. And we'll…talk about it."

She held his gaze as she got up off the floor, surprised that he wanted to talk about it with Paul.

And Chakotay knew what she was thinking, could see that she was puzzled. He gave her a tired grin. "I'm willing…to define parameters."

~vVv~


	21. Chapter 21

He needed parameters right now.

Five years ago, on New Earth, he hadn't been able to define them.

But today, here, he needed to.

And he wasn't sure why.

As he watched Kathryn leave a few minutes later, he knew he loved her, knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her – had always known that.

And if he loved her, and she him, then why did there need to be parameters?

He'd seen that same thought flash through her eyes the moment he'd said the words – not hurt, or anger. She knew he wasn't throwing her words back at her. But there was a question, a second of doubt and concern.

He'd squeezed her hand, kissed her cheek, told her to be safe on the way home, and watched her leave.

And when the door slid closed behind her, he wanted her back. So much that he began to tremble. And he consciously forced himself to relax, take deep breaths.

He didn't want to need her.

But he did.

~vVv~

_I think we need to define some parameters about us._ Her words.

_I'm not sure I can define parameters._ His reply.

And now he wanted to define them.

But as she headed toward home, she thought she understood.

It was a beautiful night, and she'd decided to walk, knowing the fresh air would do her good – help clear her head, help put things in perspective.

Help see their relationship through his eyes.

And so she tried to walk home in his shoes – her angry warrior who had sworn to stay by her side and put her needs first.

_And therein lies the problem_, she realized with a heavy sigh – right now, his needs had to come first, and she knew he was having difficulty accepting that.

Maybe it was time for another ancient legend.

~vVv~

"Dealing with a stroke can be difficult for couples who have been together for years," Paul said as he looked from Kathryn to Chakotay, "and, although you have been together for years, your relationship has changed. And the fact that the stroke brought about that change is… significant."

Kathryn reached out and touched Chakotay's hand where it lay on the armrest of his wheelchair, threaded her fingers through his, gave him a gentle smile. "It made me realize how much I loved you. If I lost you, I'd…" She sighed, not wanting to even think about the possibility. She'd thought about it too often in the last week.

She felt Chakotay's fingers squeeze around hers. "I realized the same thing. I was…so scared, and all I wanted was you." He lowered his eyes – a hard truth to admit.

"When two people love each other, that bond can be so strong, and yet…" Paul hesitated.

"Nothing makes us more vulnerable than when we love someone," Chakotay murmured, remembering the words he'd spoken to Neelix so many years ago.

"That's where trust comes in," Paul continued. "The willingness to share, to… confide in each other."

Chakotay exhaled, his eyes still lowered. He wasn't sure he was ready for this.

And neither was Kathryn.

Those ghosts that they'd avoided for so long seemed to be hovering over their shoulders, demanding that they take notice of them.

And Kathryn drew in a deep breath, and acknowledged the one that had haunted her the most. "I'm sorry… for hurting you."

And Chakotay looked up and over at her.

"On New Earth… And after… On the ship, when we returned…"

For weeks, she'd barely spoken to him, other than ship's business… Barely looked at him, not trusting herself, so afraid that a mere gaze would give it all away… her feelings for him, how much she missed his company, his friendship…

"I understood," he whispered, lifting her hand and holding it against his chest. "I won't lie to you… It did hurt… I loved you. And I missed what we had… wanted it back, but... You were the captain; I was the first officer. That's what they needed us to be, and what we needed…"

She shook her head, felt tears filling her eyes. "I couldn't think about what we needed…"

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "I know… I just… missed you…"

"I'm here now… I want to be here. And it's all right to lean on me… on each other." She hesitated, pressing her lips together before saying, "It's all right to need me, Chakotay."

She felt him stiffen beside her, and she knew that Paul saw it. Right now, this was a new ghost – Chakotay's need for her and his unwillingness to give into it. All the other ghosts would have to wait.

Kathryn continued. "Last night, you said you wanted to define parameters." She shook her head. "I don't need parameters anymore."

"I think… I do," Chakotay returned.

"Why?" The question came from Paul who had been noticeably silent, letting them do the talking, but now asking Chakotay to put reasons behind his request.

He didn't let go, but Kathryn felt his grasp on her hand loosen – a physical indication of what he was trying to do emotionally – pull back a little, put some distance between them.

And she instinctively strengthened her hold on him.

"Chakotay?" Paul prompted when he didn't answer.

And finally, he looked up, raised his eyes, focused his gaze on the woman beside him – her blue eyes sparkling with tears and love – and a touch of fear that he knew he'd put there – something he instantly regretted.

"I do love you, Kathryn – so much. You know that." His tongue licked at his lower lip, teeth pressing down hesitantly. "I'm supposed… to take care of you. I made that promise to myself… a long time ago. And now…"

Kathryn held his gaze, saw the tears forming in his eyes. He'd let her in, let her hold him, let her bathe his body and dress him – but they hadn't reached the end of this road, and she knew that he was having to admit how much he needed her every step along the way.

She touched her other hand to his cheek, fingers soft on warm skin, rubbing over the hair at his temple. "I want to take care of you… I need to do that." She took a deep breath. "Once, there was a woman warrior who lived her life in conflict with herself, a woman who wouldn't allow herself to love, even with the help of her best friend. For years, she struggled with her inability. But the only satisfaction she ever got came when she was on the bridge of her ship. This made her a heroine among her tribe, but the warrior still longed for love. One day, after she had finally brought her tribe home, her best friend, her fellow warrior, became ill. And it was in that moment that she realized how much she loved him – how much she had always loved him. He was brave, and handsome, and very wise, but he needed her more now than he ever had before. And the woman warrior swore to herself that she would stay by his side, doing whatever she could to make his burden lighter. From that point on, his needs would come first. And in that way, the woman warrior began to know… the true meaning of love."

The tears tracked silently down his cheeks, and she gently wiped them away with her fingertips. And he let her, reaching over and wiping at the wetness on her own face - two warriors who had finally come to an understanding.

~vVv~

Paul had excused himself to go get a cup of coffee, mumbling something about warriors and not being able to say it better as he left the room.

And Kathryn and Chakotay had laughed through the tears that still shone in their eyes, their hands wrapped tightly around each other – holding on, together.

"I think… I might need to hear that legend again," Chakotay sighed, knowing that needing her wouldn't be easy – for so long he'd put her needs first.

She smiled. "It'll make a good bedtime story."

He grinned. "For when you tuck me in?"

And she nodded. "Every night."

~vVv~

Paul returned with three cups of coffee, and they sat drinking them silently for several long minutes.

And then he spoke. "Needing each other isn't a sign of weakness. It takes a strong person to admit that need." His eyes lingered on Chakotay, and then shifted to Kathryn. "Burdens are meant to be shared. I think you know that. All those years in the Delta Quadrant probably taught you that lesson." He hesitated, then continued. "Open communication is also very important – another command lesson that I'm sure you know and have probably perfected in all your years together. But now you're going to have to openly communicate on a more… intimate level. There's no more command structure – you're equals in this relationship. Not captain and first officer, but… a couple."

_Almost lovers,_ Kathryn thought as she gazed over at Chakotay. _Ghosts on the horizon._

~vVv~


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and reviewing! Some reviews for my stories have commented on the lack of medical advancement for a 24th century world. And I agree. In "Star Trek reality," Chakotay should be healed by now. In my "hurt/comfort reality," he still has a way to go! Thanks for giving me "sci-fi literary license" to prolong the "hurt" in order to extend the "comfort."

Tom Paris was waiting at the small table in Chakotay's room when they returned a little after 1200 hours, a pizza box in his hands.

"It's about time," he groused good-naturedly, and plopped the box in the middle of the table, lifting the lid to reveal what looked to be a mushroom, green pepper, and onion pizza. "The goods are getting cold."

"Well, if we'd known to expect you," Chakotay laughed at the familiar look of disgruntlement on Tom's face. He wheeled over to the table, and Kathryn followed.

Tom spread his hands out in explanation. "It's Tuesday." All the explanation he needed.

"But it's early," Chakotay countered, reaching out and snagging a piece of pizza as Kathryn settled in the chair beside him.

"Well, I hear you have a schedule to keep," Tom retorted, cocking an eyebrow in Kathryn's direction. "You know how those captain types are – always sticklers for keeping to a timetable – prearranged agendas and all."

Chakotay arched his eyebrows back at the younger man. "Tell me about it. And some of those agendas are definitely hidden – subterfuge and secrecy," he added with a sideways glance at Kathryn, who leaned in close enough to dig her elbow into his ribs.

"Eat while you still can," she laughed.

"That was a threat, Tom. You heard it."

Tom leaned back in his chair, smiled at the couple across from him, pleased to see the teasing side of their relationship. "Sorry, big guy, our friendship has come a long way, but she'll always be my captain."

Kathryn felt Chakotay under the table, reaching over and touching her, his large hand warm on her thigh. "Mine, too," he murmured before taking another bite of pizza.

~vVv~

After lunch, he sent her back to work, brooking no arguments. Tom was still there, looking on, enjoying the play of words between them – like sitting on the bridge listening to familiar banter – the give and take of ideas, conjectures, possible outcomes. They'd always made a good team, even when they were at odds with each other.

"You have therapy at 1400 hours," Kathryn reminded him, one hand rubbing his shoulder, "enough time for a nap before Scott arrives." Chakotay sighed as she cast a meaningful gaze in Tom's direction.

"I'm not staying long," the younger man assured. "Wouldn't want to keep him from his beauty sleep."

And Kathryn laughed. "See that you don't. He needs his rest."

Chakotay frowned up at her, and then his expression softened at the genuine look of concern on her face. "Are you finished coddling?"

"For now," Kathryn promised, leaning down and kissing his cheek for the third time. "But I'll see you at dinner."

"That sounds like a plan," Chakotay smiled, sensing that she wanted to stay, half wanting her to stay himself, but knowing that she needed to leave. He cut his eyes toward Tom, saw the amused smirk on his face. "You'd better go. Captain Proton is enjoying this far too much."

Kathryn fixed Tom with a teasing glare. "Just remember who I am, Proton."

"Yes, my queen," he laughed, and reached for another piece of pizza – his fourth.

"Doesn't your wife feed you?" Chakotay questioned.

And Tom shook his head, mouth full of cheese and mushrooms. "Not… enough," he mumbled.

"I'll have to talk to her about that," Kathryn said, resting her hand on Tom's shoulder for a moment. "Can't have Captain Proton defending the galaxy on an empty stomach." Then she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek as well. "Thanks," she whispered in his ear.

And Tom just nodded, knowing that she was grateful for more than just the pizza.

She looked back at Chakotay, sighed, and kissed him one last time, on the lips, before straightening, turning, and heading out the door with a final reminder, "Bedtime story tonight."

And Chakotay groaned softly while Tom laughed around a mouthful of pizza. He loved to see the big guy teased – especially by Kathryn Janeway.

Tom dropped the pizza crust on his plate. "She loves you," he stated simply.

And Chakotay smiled, a soft smile, his eyes still lingering on the closed door. "I love her." And then he glanced back at Tom. "But you've always known that."

Tom toyed with the crust on his plate. "I literally had a front row seat for the past seven years. Although I may not have had eyes in the back of my head, my ears worked just fine."

Memories flooded through Chakotay's mind, images of them on the bridge, leaning towards each other over the console between their command chairs, Kathryn's voice pitched low, her eyes alight with laughter and sometimes mischief, her hand reaching across to touch his arm. They'd shared many conversations - and one too many silences.

"I guess you were a captive audience," Chakotay sighed, knowing that it hadn't always been laughter and mischief, or even silence. Knowing that, at times, some hard words had been exchanged before Kathryn had asked him into her ready room, where even harder words were thrown at each other. "And we weren't always entertaining."

Tom looked down, broke the pizza crust in his fingers, pushed the pieces around the plate. "Seven years in the Delta Quadrant can't always be a comedy. We all had our share of drama."

"Sometimes a little too much drama," Chakotay grimaced.

Tom smiled slyly over at him. "And not enough romance?"

Chakotay sighed again. "Let's just say it was… a long seven years."

"Do you miss it?"

"What? The drama or the Delta Quadrant?"

Tom shook his head. "_Voyager_. Being on the bridge."

Chakotay thought for a moment before answering. "Some days." He stared over at Tom, sensed an unspoken part of his question. "Why?"

"B'Elanna's there now. McKinley Station. _Voyager_." He studied the older man, gauging his reaction. "She says the refits will be finished in a few months. They'll be sending her back out."

Chakotay nodded.

"She'll need a captain."

A dark eyebrow rose, creasing the tattoo above his eye. "You think they'll ask her?"

Tom shook his head again. "I think they'll ask you."

"No," Chakotay responded, tight-lipped.

"No they won't ask? Or no you won't accept?"

"She belongs to her." Simple words for a simple fact.

"_Belonged_ to her. She brought her home, and gave her back. It's your turn now." Tom rubbed a hand over his chin. "Besides, scuttlebutt is they're going to offer her an admiralty."

And Chakotay couldn't help but grin. "About damn time. She should have gotten that along with that new office of hers."

"You like that idea, don't you? Dating an admiral?"

And he laughed_. Dating?_ Like they were two star-crossed teenagers. But he did like the idea.

"There's probably a promotion in there for you, too, _Captain _Chakotay." Tom lifted the last piece of pizza from the box and dropped it on Chakotay's plate. "So eat up. You're going to need your strength." A broad grin broke across Tom's face. "And when you're finished, I'll tuck you in for your nap."

~vVv~

Ten minutes and a slice of pizza later, Chakotay had to admit that a nap sounded like a good idea. But, he wasn't about to let Tom tuck him in.

"I'm quite capable of putting myself down for a nap," he laughed as he transferred from his wheelchair to the edge of the bed.

Tom stood back and watched, impressed with his ability to move from the wheelchair to the bed without assistance.

"How many more tricks have you learned?" he grinned, while Chakotay moved his right leg onto the bed and then lifted his left one up next to it.

He leaned against the pillows, adjusted his hips, then pulled a sheet over his lower body. "You make me sound like a trained seal," he mumbled and then yawned.

"Make that a tired trained seal," Tom amended, then gave him a sincere smile. "Get some rest. And think about what I said."

Chakotay looked puzzled.

"About _Voyager_," Tom clarified.

The older man shook his head. "They're not going to ask, Tom. And even if they do… Look around." His eyes took in the bedframe around him, the handgrips, and wheelchair. "I can barely walk across this room. I don't see myself striding onto a bridge anytime soon."

"In a couple of months, you'll be fine," Tom insisted.

And Chakotay fixed him with a steady gaze. "I'm not so sure."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? Look how far you've come in just a week – you're up on your feet, you're walking – you even peed standing up! B'Elanna told me!"

"You and everybody else apparently," he sighed, then took a deep breath. "Standing, walking, peeing – not exactly top attributes for a starship captain."

And Tom glared at him – not a teasing glare, but a hard one. "By the time Starfleet asks – and they will ask – you'll be completely recovered – 100 percent. And you need to start giving some serious thought to what your answer will be."

Chakotay met his gaze. "While I appreciate your vote of confidence, the only thing I'm giving serious thought to is taking a nap."

Tom shrugged, his expression softening. "All right, but I'm serious."

"And I'm tired." Chakotay exhaled a long breath, settling back into his pillows and closing his eyes.

Tom picked up the empty pizza box and crossed to the door. "Sweet dreams, big guy."

As the door slid open, he heard Chakotay's voice behind him, low and quiet. "I'll think about it."

~vVv~

But he didn't have much time to think about it that afternoon. Scott and Taryn kept him so busy that the only things he could think about were the tasks at hand – and every damn task seemed to be at his left hand, he realized as he removed his brace left-handed only to be told to put it back on with the same hand.

It was the second time he'd done it, and he glared up at Taryn from where he sat on the edge of the bed, his sweatpants pooled around his ankles.

"I must be doing a good job," Taryn commented. "I can tell by the look in your eyes that you're beginning to develop an intense dislike of your occupational therapist – something all OTs strive for."

Chakotay sighed and relaxed his gaze, realizing that he was getting overly outdone with therapists that afternoon. He'd already given Scott some well-timed curse words while maneuvering the walker around the room, and then, despite his usual eagerness, one more length of the parallel bars had been one more length too many, and he'd slipped into an official bad mood that the physical therapist had definitely picked up on. And the fact that Scott was understanding about it hadn't really helped.

"Sometimes you just want to hit something, don't you?" Taryn suggested, watching the play of emotions cross Chakotay's face.

And he exhaled a heavy breath. "Sorry," he responded with a tired half-smile. "I'm not sure… what's wrong with me today."

Taryn shrugged. "Seven-day itch."

"What?"

The therapist knelt on the floor in front of him and began to pull his sweatpants back up for him. And he let her, too damned tired to resist.

She looked up at him. "It's been a week since your stroke – seven days. A lot of patients start to get a little…"

"Stir crazy?" Chakotay finished her thought.

And she laughed softly. "I was going to say frustrated, but stir crazy will do."

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "I don't mean to be frustrated, I just…"

"Hey, no apologies necessary. Scott and I know you're not frustrated with us, or the exercises," she rested her hand on his left leg, "or the brace, or the sweatpants."

And Chakotay gave her a dimpled grin, which made her smile broaden for a moment before her expression grew serious. "It's time, Chakotay. I know the past seven days have felt like-"

"Seven years in the Delta Quadrant?"

"You tell me."

He shrugged. "Not as many hostile aliens."

"But still… some hostility?"

And he nodded.

"It's perfectly normal to be angry about the situation. You can't just get up out of that bed, cross the room, and walk right back into your life."

He shook his head at her words. "Too damn busy putting… my brace on. Again."

And they both laughed. Then Taryn reached up and took hold of his hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. "There's a punching bag down in the gym."

His eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Um-um. I'll tell Scott you'd like to get acquainted with it."

"Thanks."

And Taryn stood up, turned to gather the things she'd brought with her. As she swung her bag over her shoulder, she leveled her gaze at him. "You made it back from the Delta Quadrant. You'll make it back from this."

Chakotay started to say something, but she beat him to it. "And it won't take seven years."

~vVv~


	23. Chapter 23

Joseph helped him get settled on the shower bench, bathing supplies near at hand, and then went back into the main room after activating the water program. As the hot water washed down over him, Chakotay felt his bad mood returning. Taryn had managed to lighten his emotions for a while, but he couldn't seem to keep the negative feelings at bay. And he still couldn't pinpoint the cause.

Sure, his session with Paul and Kathryn that morning had been emotional, but he felt like he'd handled it well. They both had. He was accepting of the understanding they'd agreed upon – willing to let Kathryn take a more active role in his recovery – willing to admit his need for her – even willing to act upon it.

He thought about lunch, and Tom's discussion about _Voyager_. Was that it? The realization that he may never be able to walk the bridge of a starship again? But that was just his own unfounded fears. A part of him knew that Tom was right – he was getting better. If Starfleet did ask him to captain a ship someday, he'd probably be up to the job – if he wanted it. So that didn't add up.

He'd felt frustrated with Scott this afternoon, tired of putting one slow foot in front of the other, taking ten minutes just to cross the room, the walker too light and insubstantial under the weight of his grasp. Even the parallel bars had been too much of a challenge. And then Taryn and the damned brace. How many times did he have to put it on and take it off? And with his left hand?

He leaned into the warm jet of water, let it flow over his head and shoulders, and realized that Taryn was right. He was angry. At all of it: his need for Kathryn, his uncertainty about his career, his manipulation of inanimate objects like walkers and braces – his damned dependency on them.

He felt his breathing increase as a sudden surge of adrenaline shot through him, wished that punching bag was in front of him now. Instead, all he had was the bin of bathing items, and with a heavy shove of his right hand, that ended up on the floor. Even over the sound of the running water, Joseph heard the thud as it hit the tile, and he appeared in the open doorway. "Commander?"

Looking up at him, Chakotay felt wetness on his face, knew instantly that it wasn't water, but tears. "I'm all right," he insisted, even as he reached up with balled fists to rub at his cheeks.

And he saw Joseph's expression as he retreated. The man knew; he understood. It was part of his job. Sometimes, you had to let the patient fall apart in the shower, Chakotay thought as he gave into the sobs that welled up from inside. Sometimes, you had to let him feel sorry for himself and cry alone.

~vVv~

Until the water shut off and he sat dripping in the sudden silence of the bathroom, his head beginning to hurt and his nose stuffy from crying. He wiped at his face and eyes one last time, and looked over to see Joseph back in the doorway. The nurse took a towel from the rack and stepped over to him, rubbed it over his wet hair before handing it to him, letting him dry the rest of his body.

"It's all right to get mad," he said quietly as Chakotay scrubbed the towel over his skin.

He shook his head. "That's the theme for the day," he grimaced, looking up at the younger man. "Taryn told me it was normal to be angry."

Joseph took a step back and leaned against the doorframe. "Mad, angry, frustrated…sad – all normal. And nothing to be ashamed of."

Chakotay dropped the damp towel in his lap and sighed. "But I haven't felt like this until now…"

Joseph shrugged. "It catches up to you sometimes – when you least expect it. Good hot shower can loosen up more than just tired, knotted muscles."

Chakotay pursed his lips, then pressed them into a hard line, eyes squinting in thought.

"Don't overthink it," Joseph warned, his tone light. "Sometimes you just… have to feel what you feel." He stepped outside the door. "Let me go get you some clothes. You'll feel better when you're dressed."

And Chakotay nodded, watched him go into the main room. He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse. Wasn't sure he wanted to _feel_ anything at all.

~vVv~

He supposed being dressed helped. Crying naked in the shower tended to increase one's vulnerability, which, in turn, seemed to heighten emotional response. Note to self: next time cry with clothes on. Or, better yet, leave off the crying altogether. It didn't really get you anywhere, except for a stuffy nose and a headache.

He'd thanked Joseph for putting up with him, and now he was seated, completely dressed, at the small table in his room, working on a sand painting – or at least trying to. Two days ago, when Taryn had asked about hobbies, he'd told her about his interest in art. She'd been pleased, immediately envisioning sand paintings lining his walls, all done left-handed, of course. And, he had to admit, he'd enjoyed working on them. Yesterday. But today – not so much. The earth-toned colors of the sand arranged in thin vials were beautiful, but, once spilled onto canvas, they seemed to lose their vibrancy, and, instead, mixed together into a mud-colored blob – listless, lifeless, dull. Looking a lot like he felt, he realized, and shoved the painting away from him – not enough to knock it onto the floor however. No one should have to keep picking up after him just because he was in a lousy mood.

He leaned back in his wheelchair and glanced at the clock beside his bed. 1730. Kathryn would be walking in any minute, and he wasn't sure what to tell her when she arrived. A part of him wanted to share how he was feeling, see if talking it through would help alleviate some of his anxiety. Open communication, as Paul would say – on an intimate level.

Another part of him wanted to just slap a smile on his face, get through dinner, let her tuck him in, and go to sleep – hoping that tomorrow he would feel different. Not exactly open communication – more like tactical evasion.

Both options had their advantages.

And as he was still debating with himself, he heard the door slide open, and there she was, gliding into his room, her long cream-colored skirt flowing around her legs, her cheeks flushed from the afternoon cold front that had blown in from the bay. She smelled of fresh air and roses.

And Chakotay knew that while he didn't want to burden her with his emotions, he never wanted to evade this woman – tactically or otherwise. So when she leaned down and kissed him on the cheek, asked him how he was feeling, he opted for the truth.

"I've been… a little emotional this afternoon," he answered.

And Kathryn took his hands in hers, sinking down into the chair next to him, concern immediately tracing across her face. His standard reply was 'I'm all right,' which she usually saw through anyway, so she was a bit surprised by his admission.

"Emotional how?" she pressed.

He pursed his lips tightly together before answering – that familiar expression she'd seen a hundred times before – he was willing to answer her, just wasn't sure how to say it. And after a moment's hesitation, he went with straight facts.

"Cursing at Scott, complaining to Taryn… crying on Joseph."

"Oh, Chakotay." She lifted her hand, touched her fingers to his cheek. "Crying? About what?"

And he shook his head. "That's just it… I'm not even sure why," he replied, leaning into her touch as her palm cupped his face.

"You cried some those first few days," Kathryn remembered. "They called it… emotional lability. One minute you seemed fine, and the next you'd be crying. But that didn't last long. As you physically stabilized, your emotions seemed to stabilize as well."

"I know," he agreed, "but today… I just feel…"

"What?"

"Taryn says I may be angry."

And Kathryn couldn't help but smile. "Well, you are my warrior," she whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead, her lips lingering on the lines of his tattoo. She felt his facial muscles lift, and she pulled back, enjoying the full dimpled grin he gave her, but keenly aware of how quickly his grin faded, the planes of his face falling back into a serious expression. She caressed his cheek. "Are you angry?"

He nodded. "Maybe a little…"

"About…" she pressed again.

And he sighed, not sure how to say it, but wanting to make this burden lighter by sharing it. "It was just… too much today, I guess."

"Talking with Paul?"

He licked his tongue along his lips, top teeth worrying at the lower one. "Yeah."

He saw a flash of regret in her eyes. "I hope I didn't pressure you."

"No… You didn't. And it was more than that… It was therapy and… Tom."

"Tom?" Her eyes widened. "You just tell me what he did – because I can fix Captain Proton. I know his wife."

And she got the response she wanted as she felt Chakotay relax, saw him smile, the image of B'Elanna putting Proton in his place causing a gentle ripple of laughter. It was a response that lasted only a few moments, but the smile was genuine, not forced. And even as his expression sobered again, she felt like some of the tension had dissipated.

"Did Tom say something?" She couldn't imagine what her former helmsman might have said, but he was notorious for putting his foot in his mouth.

"No… We just talked about… _Voyager_ and… how she'll be ready in a few months." He lowered his gaze to the table in front of him.

And Kathryn started to connect the dots. "And she'll need a captain."

"He mentioned that."

"Did he mention you?" she asked pointedly.

And Chakotay look back up, but didn't answer.

Kathryn sighed. "I've heard the rumors myself. Seems they might be considering you."

He shook his head, negating her words. "She's yours, Kathryn."

She smiled. "Not anymore." And she watched the play of emotions pass through his eyes and over his face – more emotions than they had time or strength to identify and deal with at the moment.

She leaned closer and rested her forehead against his. "Let's not buy trouble right now."'

And she felt him grin again. "Are you saying that we should let sleeping dogs lie?"

She touched her lips to his, kissed him softly. "Even dogs need their rest," she murmured, pulling back, rubbing her hand along his cheek. Oh, how much she loved this man. "And besides… I'm hungry."

Chakotay kissed her again, let his lips linger on hers - nipping, tasting. "So am I," he breathed, pleased to see that open communication could lead to tactical evasion.

~vVv~


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: **To quote the title of another story (and an excellent one, so you should read it if you haven't already), I've had some "time on my hands." And so I'm posting another chapter. Soon, time will catch up with me, and I'm sure the chapters won't be posted so quickly. Thanks again for reading! JT

Kissing the woman he loved managed to lift his spirits – at least long enough to get them out of the room and down to the cafeteria for an early dinner. He'd opted for staying and exploring some more evasive maneuvers, but Kathryn really was hungry for something more than his kisses.

"One piece of pizza was not enough," she explained as they headed out into the hall.

Chakotay looked up over his shoulder at her. "You have a replicator in your office. Why didn't you get something to snack on?"

"Too busy," she answered.

"Oh, that's right. Federation Council meeting next week," he grinned at her, knowing how much she detested the politics of her new position.

"I offered Jack a million credits to take my place," she sighed. "He refused."

"Since when do you have a million credits to spare?" he questioned teasingly.

"Didn't I tell you about all that back pay Starfleet gave me?" she replied with a serious expression that lasted all of ten seconds before she smiled. "If they'd given me that, I might have retired."

"Who are you kidding? Kathryn Janeway will never retire."

He felt her hands rub along the back of his neck. "Oh, I don't know; I might someday." They were on the turbolift now, just the two of them, and she leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Especially if I found something better to do with my time," she murmured into the soft strands of his hair.

She felt his shoulders shake with silent laughter. "Retirement never looked so good."

"At least – something to look forward to," she added with a gentle hug around his neck.

And then the lift doors opened and she was pushing him toward the cafeteria with purposeful strides.

"You must really be hungry," he observed.

"Oh, I am."

~vVv~

And she was.

Chakotay watched in awe as she finished off a double cheeseburger and a second helping of fries, all washed down with a strawberry shake.

"I don't think I've ever seen this side of you," he laughed, looking down at his own plate. He'd barely finished his fish sandwich, and most of his fries lay untouched. While he was glad to be with Kathryn, his lingering bad mood was affecting his appetite.

"Oh, you haven't. I kept this side of me well hidden. Let's just say there were some nights that my replicator and I were best friends."

Chakotay arched an eyebrow. "The same replicator you once called a glorified toaster?"

She smiled at the memory. "Well, perhaps it was a love-hate relationship."

And she was pleased to see him laugh. Throughout dinner, he'd talked and smiled, but she could feel it, too – a general unease, discomfort, as if each word, each smile, took an extra effort to produce.

She reached over and touched his hand that rested next to his plate.

"You know, I've done some reading this past week about the effects of stroke." She saw his eyes narrow, but she continued. "Do you think you may be experiencing some depression?"

He sighed and shrugged, and she was relieved that he wasn't totally dismissing the idea – keeping the lines of communication open.

"Maybe. I've done some reading, too. Most of the literature says that it's fairly common."

She stared down at the table. "I remember how I felt… when we were in the Void."

And she felt his hand move, his fingers wrapping around hers. Another ghost they had never really talked about.

"It hurt to see you like that," he said softly.

"I know." She looked back up into his eyes. "It's always been a dangerous thing – giving me too much time to think, to dwell on… past regrets."

"You still haven't forgiven yourself, have you?"

"For making the decision to destroy the Caretaker's array?"

He nodded.

And she answered. "No."

Drawing in a deep breath, he tightened his hold on her hand. "We wouldn't be sitting here, now, if you'd made a different decision." He hesitated, letting his words sink in. "I might be sitting in prison."

She closed her eyes for a moment, realizing how that one decision had shaped the past seven years.

Chakotay continued, his voice soft and low, remembering. "You said that you'd made an error in judgment, that it was short-sighted and selfish, and that all of us were paying for your mistake."

She opened her eyes, surprised that he could recall her words so clearly.

"But you were wrong, Kathryn. It wasn't a mistake, and it wasn't short-sighted or selfish. And it definitely wasn't an error in judgment." He gave her a gentle smile. "Trust me; I've seen you make some errors in judgment, but destroying the array wasn't one of them."

But she knew which ones were – the Borg, the crew of the _Equinox_ - other ghosts for another time.

"Yes, your decision changed the course of our lives. But for many of us, it turned out to be a far better course than the one we were on – the one that was waiting for us back in the Alpha Quadrant." He lifted her hand to his lips, kissed her fingers. "That decision was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Kathryn blinked at the tears in her eyes, and, reaching out, she ran the fingers of her other hand over the hair at his temple. "And I'm supposed to be making you feel better."

~vVv~

They sat at the table a long time after they finished eating, just talking and drinking cups of coffee and hot tea, watching the clouds gather over the bay as an evening fog rolled in. There were no fading rays of colorful sunset light like there had been the night before – just a pale silver that darkened into brushed nickel, then finally settled into a burnished pewter.

Shades of grey that matched his mood, Chakotay thought as he studied the evening sky.

"Do you think it will rain?" He glanced over at Kathryn. "I know how much you like a good thunderstorm."

"I do like falling asleep with the sound of rain on the roof." She sighed. "I missed that on _Voyager_."

"The computer can replicate the sound."

"I know. I tried it a few times. It's not the same. My mind always knew that it wasn't the real thing." She grinned over at him. "And you know me; I always like the real thing – whether it's rain, or coffee, or… falling in love."

"Oh, I agree," Chakotay concurred in mock seriousness, "especially with that last one. Real falling in love is much better than…" And he stopped as sudden images of Michael Sullivan and Fair Haven flashed through his mind.

Through Kathryn's, too, he could tell as he watched the changing expression on her face.

"Kathryn, I'm sorry; I didn't mean anything by that… I wasn't thinking of…"

"It's all right, Chakotay. I wasn't thinking that either." And she smiled, reaching out a hand to touch his arm. "But now that I am thinking it, you're still right. The real thing is… much better than a hologram."

Chakotay set his teacup down, covered the hand that touched his arm with his own hand. "But you did care for him."

And Kathryn nodded. Another ghost between them.

"I did. He was kind, and funny. Attractive, intelligent…"

"Just your type," Chakotay grinned.

And Kathryn squeezed his arm. "I have good taste." Then she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I felt a little silly, dating a hologram. And a certain first officer's teasing didn't necessarily help the situation."

"If I recall, I was in full support of you having some fun." He steadied his gaze on her. "And if Michael made you happy, then… I was happy for you."

"I did enjoy being with him, forgetting for just a while that I was Captain Kathryn Janeway. I could just be-"

"Katie O'Clare," Chakotay smiled. "A beautiful Irish lass who loved to read poetry."

Kathryn blushed, and dropped her eyes, focused on his hand covering hers. "I was never… intimate with him, Chakotay."

"Even if you were, it doesn't matter."

"Yes… it does." She looked back up. "I did care for Michael Sullivan, but I didn't love him. Not like I loved you." She leaned closer and kissed him softly on the lips, then drew back. "I always knew… that you were the real thing."

~vVv~

"Do you feel any better?" Kathryn asked, running her hand down over his shoulder as they headed back toward the room.

They'd spent a long time talking, shifting away from more serious topics to focus on the lighter moments of their time in the Delta Quadrant, recalling different celebrations along the way.

"I do feel better," he realized. "Talking helps."

"I thought it might." She stopped and pressed the button for the turbolift. "But even remembering the good times can be bittersweet. Talking about Prixin makes me think of Neelix, and I miss him."

"I do, too," Chakotay agreed.

"And you could use a good morale officer about now," she smiled as the doors opened and they entered the lift.

He leaned his head back and gave her an upside down grin. "True, but I do have you."

"That's high praise in comparison," she laughed. "I'm not sure I can fill Mister Neelix's shoes."

"Oh, the shoes are no problem. The real question is can you fill his colorful outfits?"

"No," she answered immediately. "That I'm sure of." She was silent for a few moments, thinking of the diminutive, yet larger than life, Talaxian. "I hope he's doing all right."

Chakotay heard the wistful tone in her voice, and quickly reassured her. "I'm sure he's very happy with Dexa and Brax."

"Oh, I know he is." The lift doors opened and they continued down the hall toward Chakotay's room. "He knew the real thing when he met her."

"It just didn't take him seven years to admit it," Chakotay said teasingly.

Only to be rewarded with a playful slap to the back of his head.

"Hey, be careful. You'll mess up my hair." And he felt Kathryn's fingers twine into the strands at the base of his neck.

"I've been meaning to say something about this hair."

"I'm letting it go grey," he said in defense.

"Finally," she laughed.

And he knew what she was thinking. He'd been guilty of dying it for years – not sure why – probably some mid-life crisis that he'd chosen not to examine too closely.

Still wasn't ready to examine, and Kathryn sensed that and hurried on with her observation. "I'm not talking about the color," she quickly leaned down and whispered in his ear, "which I love," and then straightened. "I'm referring to the length. It's getting long, Chakotay."

His hair barely brushed the top of his collar. But, in comparison to the shorter crew-cut style he'd adopted since his return to Earth, he supposed that it could be a bit longer.

"Are you saying I need a haircut?" he questioned as they approached the door to his room.

"Well, not right away, but in a few days…"

"And I suppose you're volunteering." He looked up over his shoulder, eyeing her warily, not bothering to hide his doubt. And, if truth be told, his concern. There was only so much his unexamined mid-life crisis could handle.

"I'll have you know, I'm a professional," she declared proudly.

And he squinted his eyes at her. "At captaining a starship – not cutting hair."

"Oh, Commander," she sighed as the door to his room slid open and she pushed him inside, "there are still so many things you don't know about me."

~vVv~


	25. Chapter 25

"Should I be worried about the door closing behind me," Chakotay questioned even as the door slid shut.

"Oh, no," Kathryn assured him, running her fingers across his shoulders and down over his chest, "you are in very safe hands."

She kissed the top of his head, then his temple, and, before he knew it, she was sitting in his lap, holding his face between her palms, and pressing her lips to his.

He responded instantly, pressing back, lips parting, tongue slipping in to duel with hers, his arms sliding around her as his own hands smoothed up over her back, one hand cupping the nape of her neck, while the other tangled in her hair. The kiss deepened for several long moments, and then he drew back slightly, nuzzling her cheek, her neck, touching the tip of his tongue to her earlobe before returning to her lips again.

She sighed, and he felt her relax even more into his arms, her slim body pressed to his as she shifted, and then her eyes flew open and she pulled away, sliding most of her weight to his right leg.

"Oh, Chakotay, your brace." She dropped one hand to his left leg. "Am I hurting you?"

He took in a deep breath, startled by her abrupt reaction, then ran his hands down along her arms. "I'm fine, Kathryn," he murmured, holding her still, adjusting his hips and thighs under her, settling her more comfortably in his lap. "You're definitely not hurting me."

She exhaled a long breath, leaning forward and resting her forehead against his. "You're sure?"

And he nodded, moving her head with his. "Very." He ran his fingers along her cheek. "Now where were we?"

But as he lowered his lips back to hers, she pulled back, her hands on his shoulders. "I was about to tuck you in and tell you a bedtime story."

Another nod. "And after that?"

"You're going to go to sleep," she said with a note of finality, getting up and pushing her hair back from her face.

Chakotay felt his breathing slowing down, saw hers calming as well. And he sighed, a very long, very regretful sigh. "I know. What was I thinking?"

She smiled down at him, taking one of his hands in hers. "Probably the same thing I was. But… we're not fifteen-year-olds on their first date."

"Speak for yourself," he grinned, pulling her hand closer and kissing it.

"Chakotay…" And he recognized the unspoken warning in her tone; it was right there next to the unspoken desire; he knew she regretted it as much as he did.

But there were other possible regrets. "You're right. I don't want our first time to be in a hospital room at Starfleet Medical."

"Neither do I." She leaned over and placed a rather chaste kiss on his cheek. "But I am looking forward to it."

And before she could pull away, he'd turned his head, captured her lips with his again, pressing in – a preview and a promise that left her breathless just as the door slid open behind them and Joseph stepped in.

"I'm sorry." The nurse took a step back, taking in Kathryn's bent position over Chakotay's wheelchair, her flushed cheeks and startled expression.

And Chakotay caught her eyes and couldn't help but grin as he looked over his shoulder. "It's all right, Joseph."

"I just came to see if you needed any help getting ready for bed."

Chakotay's grin grew wider. "No. I'm fine. Captain Janeway's going to tuck me in and tell me a bedtime story."

"Yes, sir." Joseph took another step back into the hallway. "You call if you need anything. And… I'm glad you're feeling better." And the door slid closed.

And there was silence in the room, Kathryn's eyes boring into him as he twisted back around in his chair.

And then she spoke, her voice low and quiet. "You… are in so much trouble."

Chakotay just nodded, licked his tongue along his lower lip. "I understand, Captain. You… could place me on report."

"Oh, I plan to. I'm even considering the brig."

"For seventy-five years?"

"At least. Maybe longer."

Another nod, and his lower lip jutted out in a teasing pout. "I deserve it. I've been a… very bad first officer. I should be… punished." And it was all he could do to keep a straight face.

Which Kathryn couldn't do, and she dissolved into convulsive laughter, so hard that she had trouble catching her breath. She sank back onto his lap and laughed until tears formed in her eyes and dripped onto her cheeks. And Chakotay laughed with her, rubbing her back at the same time, both of them trying to regain control.

And finally, Kathryn did, her forehead resting against his once more. "This is worse… than a bad… romance holo-novel," she breathed.

And he agreed. "Oh, much worse."

"It sounds like something Tom would write."

And they both laughed again. And then they both sighed, and Kathryn moved her head to his shoulder, snuggled closer to him.

"You still have to get ready for bed," she said after several long minutes.

"And you still have to tuck me in and tell me that story."

~vVv~

Getting ready for bed revolved around rather mundane tasks: going to the bathroom, brushing his teeth, changing out of his sweats, taking off his brace, deciding whether to sleep in pajamas or opt for the much simpler boxer shorts and t-shirt.

Reluctantly, Kathryn had extricated herself from his lap and arms and watched as he wheeled over to the bathroom door.

"Do you need any help?"

He shook his head as he set the wheel breaks and took hold of the handrails that ran along both sides of the doorway. He planted his feet solidly on the tile floor and then pulled himself to a standing position, swaying slightly and leaning one shoulder against the doorframe.

Kathryn was beside him instantly, hands on his back, steadying him. He smiled down at her, struck as he often was by her height; even with her uniform boots, she wasn't that tall. And without them, Kathryn Janeway was downright short, her forehead even with his shoulder, her chin brushing the middle of his upper arm. But he doubted if any Delta Quadrant ally or enemy ever noticed. The boots may have afforded her two more inches, but the force of her personality afforded her much more than that. And for all the years he'd stood beside her, protecting her from friend or foe, she'd done the same for him. They were certainly not mirror images, yet still two halves of a whole.

Having her by his side was like breathing.

"I knew there was something else that I've been missing since we got back to the Alpha Quadrant."

The concerned expression on her face grew puzzled. "What is that?"

"Looking to my right and seeing you standing there."

And she laughed softly, the worry lines across her brow relaxing as she leaned her forehead against his arm. "I guess… side by side is our preferred position."

And Chakotay raised an eyebrow, a bit surprised by her play on words. "For bridge duty anyway," he whispered, leaning over and kissing the top of her head, then allowing his eyes to roam around the small room. "Although Voyager's viewscreen usually gave us a much better view."

Kathryn looked around as well, taking in the open shower stall, toilet, and sink. She saw the handrails, knew that he could manage this space on his own, but was still reluctant to release him.

"I'm fine," he assured her, sensing her uncertainty. "You can wait in the main room. I'll be out in a little while."

Still, she hesitated.

"Kathryn." He nudged her gently with his elbow. "You can let go." And he pulled away from her, reaching out for the railing along the sink. He placed his right leg out in front of him and took a small step, his left leg sliding forward to meet it.

"I'll stay here. Just in case."

He grinned as he took another step toward the toilet. "In case what? I fall in?"

And she sighed. "Yes… I mean no… I mean…"

He stopped for a moment, looking back over his shoulder. "I know Paul said that we were going to have to communicate openly on a more intimate level, and, believe me, I'm more than willing to do that. But right now, I'd sort of like to pee without an audience."

And Kathryn exhaled a heavy breath, running her hands down along her cheeks and over her mouth until the tips of her fingers were poised against her chin. "I'm sorry. You need your privacy," she realized. "I'll turn around." And she did just that, turning the other way, still in the open door with her back to him.

And Chakotay shook his head, knowing she meant well.

"Kathryn, I don't think I can pee with you standing there. I'm a little bladder shy," he offered with a low chuckle.

He saw her shoulders slump and heard her sigh again. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I'm just…"

"Worried about me. I know. But I promise – I can do this."

She looked back at him. "If you need me…"

"I'll call for you."

And he watched as she started to step away, then laughed at her parting words.

"But if you do fall in, don't call me – call Joseph."

~vVv~

A few minutes later, he realized that what he thought had been a fabricated excuse may actually be a real problem. He'd told Kathryn he was a little bladder shy, and it seemed his words were proving to be all too accurate. He'd lowered his sweatpants around his thighs, taken things in hand, so to speak, but he wasn't accomplishing anything.

And he released an exhaustive sigh.

She may not have been at the door, but the door was still open and she was just in the next room – an audience still within hearing distance of the performance.

And so, he carefully leaned over and turned on the water tap in the sink – killing two birds with one stone, he smiled as the sound of the running water would not only mask other sounds but perhaps encourage his own presently faulty plumbing.

And in less than a minute, he completed his mission and pulled his clothing back into place. Sidling over to the sink, he washed his hands and splashed a little water on his face – felt the coolness against slightly flushed cheeks. Then he tackled the tube of toothpaste and toothbrush, and, although it took a little longer than his first mission, was pleased when it, too, proved successful.

Slowly, he returned to the doorway, turned, and sank back into his wheelchair; he wheeled into the main room to find Kathryn sitting at the table scanning a data padd.

She looked up and smiled. "Mission accomplished?"

And he laughed at her choice of words; they were definitely two old Starfleet officers. "I'll have my report to you by 0800."

"See that you do."

He wheeled across the room, and she got up and followed him, watched as he reached up for the handgrip and then transferred himself onto the edge of the bed.

"You're getting good at that," she commented, then knelt on the floor in front of him.

"Tom was impressed. Said I'd been learning new tricks. I told him it made me feel like a trained seal."

Kathryn's hands moved to his waist and pulled at the tie on his sweatpants. And he started to protest, but stopped, realizing that need went both ways. He was capable of taking off his own clothes now, able to remove his brace as well. Could even do it left-handed. But Kathryn needed him to need her. And he had to admit that he needed her to do that. And so he placed his hands on the bed behind him and leaned back, letting her divest him of both his pants and his brace.

She set them to one side, then settled her palms on his legs, fingers gently massaging the muscles in his thighs. She looked up at him. "Pajamas?"

And he shook his head. "I can sleep in my boxers and t-shirt." He glanced over at the urinal that still hung on the side of the bed. "It's easier. Not as much fabric to move around in the middle of the night." And he scooted up into the bed, letting her pull the sheet and blanket over him.

He leaned back against the pillows as she settled next to him, lifting her legs up beside his, curling into his chest with her head on his shoulder. And he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then whispered a request, "Could you begin with 'once upon a time'?"

~vVv~


	26. Chapter 26

"And the woman warrior and her angry warrior, who wasn't as angry anymore, lived happily ever after." With her last words, Kathryn turned her face into him and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, lips and breath warm against the cotton fabric of his t-shirt. She felt him shudder slightly under her, releasing a long sigh.

"Tell it again," he murmured, running his hand down along her hip and pressing her closer against him, pleased when she lifted her leg and draped it over his.

She rubbed her hand up over his chest to his neck, fingers warm against his skin, and her lips followed, placing another gentle kiss under his ear.

And he bent his head, capturing her mouth with his, savoring the touch and taste of lips and tongue, both soft and hard, against his own.

Kathryn moaned softly and he sighed, pulling away, remembering where they were. And she opened her eyes, blinking up at him, remembering as well. "Tom's right. We gotta get you out of here, big guy."

And he chuckled, recalling the look on Tom's face when he realized that alcoholic beverages weren't allowed within the confines of Starfleet Medical. "No drinking beer, no making love – this place is much too restrictive."

"Oh, I agree." Kathryn nipped playfully at his chin.

"We need to find a more liberal rehab facility." And Chakotay nipped back. Two could play at this game.

"Like my place," she breathed, placing a kiss along the top of his ear – the flat part that she loved.

And she felt Chakotay grow still beneath her. And she realized what she'd said.

"Your place?"

She sat back a little so that she could see him better, but the expression on his face was hard to read – surprise perhaps, pleasure, but uncertainty in the brown depths of his eyes.

"Well, I know you probably won't be released until sometime next week, but I've been thinking…"

"I thought we determined that giving Kathryn Janeway too much time to think can be dangerous."

"Not always." She placed a hand back on his chest, rubbed gently against his t-shirt. "Sometimes I come up with brilliant ideas – like having you move in with me." And she hurried on with her reasoning, Chakotay realizing that she had indeed given herself a lot of time to think about this plan. "You'll still need someone to be there for you in case-"

"I fall in…"

She frowned at his interruption and continued. "In case you need something. And-"

"You just used the word _need_ twice in once sentence. Let's not take this new legend too far."

She ignored him. "And you'll probably need some out-patient therapy-"

"Used it again."

"And my place is bigger than yours and much more…" And this time her voice trailed off naturally so that instead of interrupting her Chakotay simply finished her unspoken thought.

"Homey," he suggested. He knew how sterile his apartment was; it was never home, just a stopping off place between _Voyager_ and what she was offering him now.

Kathryn exhaled a deep breath, her hand still caressing the firm muscles of his chest and stomach, as if relaxing him physically might relax his possible refusal of her offer.

Chakotay reached down and grabbed her hand as it slid closer to the waistband of his boxers. "First, you have to stop this – or Starfleet Medical's rehab facility is going to get really liberal really fast."

Kathryn pressed her lips together to keep from laughing and mumbled a soft apology. "Sorry – big guy."

Chakotay shifted his hips uncomfortably and pulled the blanket further up over his lap. "And we have to think carefully about this proposal."

"Oh, I've given it careful thought," she replied quickly, excited that he hadn't dismissed her offer altogether. "There are a few steps at the front door, and a few steps up to my bedroom…"

She saw his eyes narrow even as his eyebrows managed to creep up onto his forehead. "Your bedroom?"

And she slowed down, backtracked. "There's only one step up to the guestroom."

And Chakotay chuckled again, enjoying the slight look of contrition on her face before assuring her. "I think I can manage those few extra steps up to your bedroom."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek, whispered in his ear. "Our bedroom."

"Sounds even better. I wasn't really looking forward to going back to my place."

"Then it's settled," Kathryn said with that familiar note of finality. She slid down beside him and placed her head back against his shoulder. "When you're released, I'm taking you home."

And Chakotay smiled. From trained seal to adopted pound puppy – not a bad promotion.

~vVv~

Twenty minutes later, his newly adopted master was falling asleep on his shoulder and Chakotay shook her gently. "Hey, you have to go home. You have work in the morning."

"Just a few more minutes," she murmured, snuggling closer.

He shook her again. "Uh-uh. The legend says nothing about sleeping over."

She opened one eye and glared up at him. "It's my legend; I can always change it."

Chakotay glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "It's almost 2300 hours. If you're not home by midnight, you'll turn into a pumpkin."

Kathryn laughed softly. "The carriage turned into a pumpkin, not Cinderella."

"You have your legend; I have mine." He shook her again. "Come on. Up."

Reluctantly, Kathryn pulled away from him and sat up. "You're going to miss me when I'm gone."

He reached out and brushed his fingers through her hair, tucking an auburn strand behind her ear. "I always do."

She leaned over and kissed him gently on the lips. "I'll see you tomorrow." Then she pressed her cheek to his and whispered, "I love you."

"I love you."

She slid off the bed, gathered her coat and bag, and paused at the door, looked back at him. "Sleep well, Chakotay."

"You, too."

And then she was gone, the door sliding closed behind her.

Chakotay pressed a button on the side of the bed, lowered the lighting, and, with a smile, settled back into his pillows and imagined she was still there.

~vVv~

They fell into a pattern: work, therapy, dinners together – long evenings spent talking about their days, remembering their years in the Delta Quadrant, and planning their future. Chakotay grew stronger, graduating from the wheelchair, to the walker, and by the end of the week he met Kathryn at the door, supported by crutches that encircled his lower arms, his fingers wrapped tightly around the handgrips.

"Oh, Chakotay." She started to hug him, but stopped herself, worried that she might throw him off balance. She opted for a quick kiss to his cheek instead. "You're doing great."

He grinned, turned, and headed toward the table, each step strategically placed. "That's what they tell me." He reached a chair, and slowly sank into it, exhaling a long breath. Kathryn joined him, taking his crutches as he extricated his arms from the padded cuffs.

"How do you like them?" she asked, leaning the crutches against the wall, then reaching over and taking his hand in hers.

He shrugged. "They're all right. Hard work."

She smiled. "Well, that's never stopped you."

"No, it hasn't. But if we go to the cafeteria tonight, I think I'd still like to take the wheelchair." He sighed. "It's been a long day." He immediately noted a look of concern cross Kathryn's face – more so than normal. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she answered quickly, shaking her head, seeing his worried expression, "but… I should have checked with you first."

"About what?"

"I've invited guests for dinner – Tom and B'Elanna."

"That's not too many," Chakotay assured her.

"And the Doctor."

"Still, not a lot."

"And Harry… and I think he's bringing Libby."

Chakotay was silent, and Kathryn was afraid that he was upset. She should have realized that he'd be too tired.

"I can call and cancel. They'll understand."

"No." He squeezed her hand. "I'm fine. It'll be good to see them. Besides, you and I were beginning to run out of things to talk about."

And Kathryn laughed, knowing that he was teasing. "Oh, that'll be the day."

~vVv~

They gathered in the cafeteria, commandeering the largest table near the windows, and Kathryn had arranged for a waiter to serve them. The Doctor had brought two bottles of chardonnay, which caused Tom to question the no alcohol rule.

"In patients' rooms," B'Elanna explained. "The emphasis being on patient. When you're sick or injured, it's just not a good idea to drink. Even synthehol," she added.

"Which this is not," the Doctor assured, filling wine glasses and passing them around the table. He caught Chakotay's questioning gaze. "And, under the circumstances, and in light of your positive progress, Commander, as your doctor, I'll allow you one glass of wine. Drink it slowly."

Chakotay grinned and happily accepted a glass, started to raise it to his lips.

"But not yet," Tom stopped him. He stood and looked around the table at the Doctor across from him, Harry and Libby at one end, Chakotay and Kathryn at the other, and B'Elanna at his side. He lifted his wine glass. "First, a toast." He turned toward Chakotay, hesitated, and then sighed. "Well, this was my idea, and now… I'm not sure what to say."

"Unbelievable," B'Elanna snorted beside him. "Tom Paris at a loss for words!" She pulled on his arm as she stood. "Sit down and let me say something." And she pushed him back into his seat.

Raising her own glass, she looked down the table at Chakotay. "Well, if this were ten years ago, I would never be standing and making a toast. Not for a lack of words, but… because ten years ago I didn't care enough about anyone or anything to actually give a damn… Then I met someone who changed that – someone who gave me a place to belong and a family to belong to… And when that family lost its home, and we were forced to make a new one, he was the one who never gave up on me, insisting that I could be something more than I could ever imagine, and convincing others of that as well." Her gaze shifted toward Kathryn for a moment and then back to Chakotay. "Without him, I don't think I could have ever accepted _Voyager_ as my new home, never accepted that new family. You were that someone, Chakotay, that link, that bridge from one family to the next – you held us together." She pressed her lips into a hard line and blinked at the tears that were forming in her eyes, but she didn't look away. "You once told me…that losing people is inevitable, and that sometimes it happens sooner than we expect. Ten days ago, I was afraid of losing you. But I remembered something else you said about our family on _Voyager_, and I realized that…" She drew in a deep breath, smiling through the tears that were now trailing down her cheeks. "You're stuck with us, Chakotay, and I thank Kahless every day that you are." She felt Tom stand up beside her, his arm going around her shoulders, pulling her close. "I love you, old man," she whispered, one hand wiping at her face as the other lifted her wine glass higher. "To Chakotay."

And his name echoed around the table as glasses clinked together.

~vVv~


	27. Chapter 27

He never liked being the center of attention, never shied away when he was thrust into it, but was usually satisfied to let someone else do the shining. For years, he'd watched proudly as Kathryn stood in the middle of _Voyager_'s bridge, her stage, her show, and had been perfectly content to be part of the supporting cast – to stand by her side and make her burdens lighter.

But he was the center now – all eyes on him.

He watched as Tom held B'Elanna close, and he blinked at the tears that her words had brought to his own eyes. He knew how much she cared, but he also knew how hard it was for her to share those feelings, especially in front of others, even if they were her family.

And he knew how much he loved her – all of them, he realized as his gaze traveled around the table, and finally came to rest on the woman beside him – blue eyes glistening with her own unshed tears. She reached out and took hold of his hand, squeezed it gently.

And from the middle of the table, Tom found something to say. "Speech," he called.

And with a final swipe of her hands across her cheeks, B'Elanna laughed. "Typical! You can't find the words to say, but you expect the rest of us to be oratorical geniuses!"

"Hey," he kissed her cheek, "you just brought the audience to tears with that toast."

And she lightly pushed him away as they both sank back into their chairs. She cast her gaze in Chakotay's direction once more, the look in her eyes almost apologetic – she knew what a private man he was, how he felt things deeply but usually kept his feelings close – and she'd just reduced herself and others to tears.

But the only thing she saw shining in his eyes now was love, and she breathed a sigh of relief as she watched Kathryn lean over and whisper in his ear.

The corners of Chakotay's lips lifted into a dimpled grin. "Umm, my… captain… informs me that I should… probably say something. Unfortunately, she… didn't tell me what that was."

Soft laughter rippled around the table.

"But… I know what I'm feeling, so I'll just say… what's in my heart." He took a deep breath, his eyes circling the table again. "I never thought that something like this could happen to me – after having my bioneural energy extracted from my brain, being telepathically linked to a Borg collective, and communicating with aliens in chaotic space, who would expect something as… ordinary as a stroke to take you down. But it did." He looked over at Kathryn, pulled her hand over onto his lap, held it close. "And I've had a lot of time to think about that. And a lot of time to realize how… blessed I am. I have talented doctors and caring friends who all make up a… wonderful family. And all I can say is… thank you, and… I love you."

Kathryn leaned over and kissed his cheek. And Harry started to clap, and the others joined in – brief applause interrupted by Tom's next words, "I'm hungry. What's a guy gotta do to get some food around here?"

And B'Elanna groaned, sharing a glance with Libby, who started to laugh, while the waiter came forward and deposited plates of eggplant parmesan before them. Soon they were all talking and eating and passing the bottles of wine around the table.

Kathryn enjoyed the meal and the company, but she kept a close eye on Chakotay. He was enjoying himself as well, but she wanted to make sure he didn't overdo – that he stuck with one glass of wine and didn't push himself too far. She saw the Doctor watching, too, and was glad that he was there, both as a friend and a physician.

After a delicious meal, complemented by coffee cheesecake for dessert, Tom leaned back in his chair and made an announcement. "Chakotay, I know you've been working hard these past ten days to get back on your feet, so you've really not had time to do any reconnaissance missions."

Chakotay took a sip of hot tea and shook his head. "Sorry, Tom, I didn't realize we were in an uncharted region."

"Oh, no need to apologize. But, knowing you've been busy, I've taken it upon myself to do a little reconnoitering, and I've discovered something very interesting." He drew out the last two words.

B'Elanna sighed and played along. "What, Tom? What have you discovered?"

"Well, I had some help." He looked toward the end of the table. "Harry, would you like to tell them?"

The younger man grinned and answered. "We found a games room down the hall – ping pong, pool, air hockey. It's not exactly Sandrine's but, well, we thought it might be fun."

They all glanced at Chakotay, not sure how he would react.

And he took another sip of his tea, then set the cup on the table. "Well, my left arm's still not as strong, but… I'm game."

And Tom smiled. "Think of it as therapy, right, Doc?"

The Doctor frowned at his suggestion. "If he plays pool, he should think of it as playing pool. Thinking of it as therapy would not be an accurate thought process."

Tom sighed and clapped the Doctor on the shoulder. "Lighten up, Doc."

And the EMH rolled his eyes, and acquiesced. "Yes, think of it as therapy, Commander. Technically, it's not, but it won't hurt you, so you can think of it that way."

~vVv~

And so they found themselves in the games room at the end of the hall, the men gathered around the pool table while the women sat at a nearby table playing cards and talking. Even in his wheelchair, Chakotay was able to lean over the table far enough to play, and Kathryn was pleased to see that he was having fun.

"He seems to be doing great, Captain," Libby observed as Chakotay sank a striped ball into the corner pocket. "And I don't just mean pool."

"Please, call me Kathryn." She eyed B'Elanna and glanced over at Tom and Harry. "I'm trying to break them of the habit, but you and I can start fresh on a first-name basis."

"All right, Kathryn," the younger woman agreed.

"And you're right. He is doing great. He's working hard. I was afraid he might be too tired tonight, but I think he's doing just fine."

"More than fine," B'Elanna observed. "He's beating the hell out of Tom. And I know Tom. He's not letting him win."

"Just like you're not letting me win at gin," Kathryn observed, picking up the jack that B'Elanna had just discarded and replacing it with a three.

B'Elanna studied the cards in her hand, rearranged a few of them. "All's fair in war and games," she observed, as Libby drew from the stack and set an ace down in the discard pile.

Quickly, B'Elanna snagged the ace and deposited a four. "What about Harry?" she looked over at Libby. "Does he let you win?"

She laughed. "Harry doesn't have to let me win. He's terrible at games. Although, he persists at Kal-toh. He may actually be getting better."

"Oh, Tuvok will be glad to hear that," Kathryn smiled.

And B'Elanna gave her a questioning glance. "Glad? Seems a little strong for Tuvok."

"You're right. Let's just say satisfied." She spread a fan of cards on the table, and then another fan, and then a third. "Gin," she announced.

B'Elanna groaned, and spread her hand on the table as Libby picked up a pencil and started calculating the score. "Speaking of satisfied," she couldn't help but notice the expression on her former captain's face, "you like winning, don't you?"

"Surely, you figured that out a long time ago," she smiled and looked over toward the pool table when she heard another frustrated groan come from Tom. "Seems like my team is doing very well tonight."

"You cheat," Tom accused, with only a touch of humor in his voice.

Chakotay laid his pool cue on the table, spreading his hands out to the side. "How can I cheat at pool?"

Tom shook his head, rubbing the square of blue chalk over the tip of his cue. "I don't know – but you've figured out a way."

"Face it, Tom," Harry chided, "Chakotay's always been better at pool." He remembered those first few months on _Voyager_, how Tom had tried every trick he knew to beat the first officer at the game – only to fail miserably. "It's nice to know some things never change."

"Put your money where your mouth is, clarinet boy." Tom cocked his head toward the table. "Rack'em up."

Chakotay chuckled and wheeled over toward the women. "He's all yours, Harry."

"Gee, thanks."

"Come, on," Tom pushed. "Let's see who beats who."

"Whom," Harry sighed, as he started setting the balls in the triangle.

"What?"

"Who beats whom… Oh, never mind."

Chakotay wheeled in next to Kathryn and made the mistake of exhaling a little too deeply, which she, of course, misconstrued as a yawn. "I think it's almost your bedtime, Commander."

He frowned over at her. Coddling in private was one thing, but… public coddling. He'd have to have a long talk with her, he decided, even as a gentle smile spread across his face.

"I'm fine, Kathryn."

"The captain's right." The Doctor stepped over and sat in an empty chair. "It's best not to overtire yourself at this point in your recovery. Why I was just telling Seven this morning how far you've come, and I…" His voice trailed off when he realized that two sets of eyes were boring holes into him. He looked over at Kathryn and Chakotay. "I've said something wrong?"

When neither of them answered right away, he shifted his gaze toward B'Elanna. Another set of eyes pierced through him, and she sighed. "How did Seven know?"

He looked back at Chakotay. "I assumed the commander had contacted her. She knew when I spoke to her. In fact, that's why she got in contact with me. She wanted to check on his condition, and I…" He glanced down, and then back up. "I'm sorry, Commander. Other than praising you on your rate of recovery, I didn't share anything with her that would violate doctor-patient confidentiality."

Chakotay allowed a slow smile to crease his face. "It's all right, Doctor. I know you didn't. I just never realized how far-reaching the Starfleet grapevine was." He shook his head. "Bajor's a long way away."

"She could have heard from almost anyone," Kathryn surmised, reaching out to touch Chakotay's hand, thinking of all the crew that had been aware of his stroke.

"True," he agreed, turning toward her, "but she should have heard it from me."

~vVv~


	28. Chapter 28

Through the years, she'd seen him beat himself up enough times to know what it looked like – tight mouth, creased eyes, knotted forehead, big hands that rubbed restlessly along his thighs. She saw the telltale signs a half hour later as she wheeled him back to his room. He tried to act as if the situation with Seven wasn't bothering him, tried an attempt at half-hearted teasing with Kathryn as his target. And although she played along, she knew better.

"I can't believe you weren't playing pool. You know you can borrow my stick anytime." There was a hint of humor in his tone, but his expression remained the same.

"I was feeling rather sedate tonight. And besides, you seemed to be handling your stick just fine without me." She participated in the teasing banter, hoping it might lighten his mood.

"You were just worried that Tom might beat you."

She squeezed his shoulders. "You know me better than that. Tom Paris with a pool cue doesn't worry me in the least."

"Yeah." And he fell silent, the tension in his shoulders increasing under the palms of her hands.

She rubbed against the taut muscles, hard and unyielding, could feel that he was losing the battle. He'd work himself into a headache if he didn't relax.

They'd reached the turbolift in the lobby, but, instead of stopping, Kathryn wheeled him over to a sitting area to the side, a small, secluded alcove. She sank down onto a chair in front of him, reaching out to stop the movement of his hands against his thighs, wrapping her fingers around his.

"You don't need to worry about Seven either. She'll understand."

He pursed his lips. "Umm, worrying about Tom Paris beating you at pool, worrying about your ex-girlfriend finding out about your illness from someone else – not one of your smoother segues, Kathryn."

"Perhaps not… but I am serious. Seven will understand that you've been busy with your recovery."

"And I have been." He lowered his eyes and released a heavy sigh. "But… there's more..."

She squeezed his hands. "I know." And she did.

In Seven's eyes, Chakotay had always been strong and in control – as first officer, mentor, friend – more than friend. It wasn't a role that he played; it was just who he was. And Kathryn knew that just as he didn't want his sister to see him weak and vulnerable, he didn't want Seven to see him that way either. But she suspected that there was even more to it than that.

She drew in a deep breath. "Telling Seven about your stroke might lead to telling Seven about us."

And Chakotay's eyes flashed back up at her. "I'm not afraid of telling Seven about us."

She rubbed her hands over his. "Slow down, Chakotay. I didn't say you were." Although she did notice how quick he was to deny it.

He sighed and licked at his lips, and she felt a fraction of his tension lessen as his shoulders slumped forward. "I'm sorry, Kathryn. I don't know why I'm acting this way."

She smiled gently, placing one warm hand against his chest – a familiar touch. "Maybe you're feeling… a little too open right now… a little vulnerable. You weren't expecting her to know until you were ready to tell her – about the stroke and about us." Kathryn hesitated for a moment, then continued. "You have always valued your privacy and your control. And in some ways, this stroke took that away from you. But you are getting it back. And you don't have to do anything or say anything until you're ready."

A soft smile lifted the corners of his lips – a moment's reprieve in his silent battle. This time, his hands squeezed hers. "I'll contact Seven tomorrow. I owe that to her. And to you."

She shook her head. "Oh, no, Chakotay, you don't owe me anything."

Reaching up with one hand, his fingers touched her chin, stopped the gentle movement of her head. "Kathryn Janeway, I owe you everything." And he leaned forward and kissed her.

~vVv~

"I wonder what she'll think," B'Elanna said as she and Tom stepped out into the night air and she pulled her coat closer around her, Tom draping his arm over her shoulder. She pressed into him as they hurried along the sidewalk.

"Wonder what who will think about what?" Tom queried, as he steered her toward the transporter station on the corner.

"Were you even listening to our conversation with the Doctor?"

"Oh, you mean Seven."

B'Elanna gave an exasperated sigh. "Who else would I mean?"

"Oh, I don't know… Kathryn, Libby…"

She growled lightly and bumped him with her hip, throwing him slightly off balance. And he laughed, pulling her closer to him.

"I didn't know other people's love lives got you so hot and bothered, but I think I like it." And he ducked in and planted a kiss on her cheek.

She pushed him away. "They don't… get me hot and bothered." She glared at him.

"Then I have some more work to do when we get home," he laughed as they reached the front entrance of the station.

B'Elanna reached up and took hold of the collars of his jacket, stopping him before he entered. She pulled him over to one side.

"Just wait."

Looking at her now, face to face, Tom saw the worried expression in her eyes. "Hey, what is it?" He ran his fingers through her hair, pushing a wayward strand off her cheek.

"I'm just… I'm worried about him."

"B'Elanna… He's doing great. You saw that. He's coming back… Hell, he beat me at pool."

"He always beats you at pool."

Tom smiled. "That proves my point. He's his old self again."

"Maybe."

"Maybe? C'mon, B'Elanna. Spill it."

She exhaled a deep breath, rubbed her fingers over her eyes and up over the ridges of her forehead. Tom caught her hand, brought it down under his chin, and held it there, waiting.

"His relationship with Kathryn is still so new…" she murmured. "I just don't want Seven to say something that…"

"There is nothing that Seven could say that would ever change how Chakotay feels about Kathryn."

"I know that. I just don't want her to…"

And Tom understood. "You don't want her to hurt him."

"He felt guilty about his relationship with Seven. I know he did."

"But I thought Seven was the one who broke up with him."

"I think she was, but…" B'Elanna looked away, stared at a point over his shoulder, continued talking. "He takes everything so personally."

"He should. It's his love life, B'Elanna. And he's a big boy – he can handle it." Tom grinned. "Remember, he once had a date with species 8472."

"And he once dated a Bajoran who turned out to be Cardassian."

"Seska," Tom said flatly, not sure how her name had made it into the conversation. There were no parallels. He leaned back against the brick wall of the station and drew B'Elanna to him, his arms going around her back, anchoring her close. "Seven isn't Seska. She doesn't harbor any resentment toward Chakotay. She'll be pleased for him and Kathryn."

B'Elanna shook her head. "You don't know that."

And Tom sighed. "You're right. I don't. But I know Seven, and I know Chakotay, and even if she isn't pleased… He can take care of himself, B'Elanna." He reached up and ran his fingertips over her cheek. "He doesn't need… his little sister to fight any battles for him."

B'Elanna lowered her eyes, blinking at tears for the second time that night. "So… you're saying I have to stop worrying about him."

Tom touched his finger to her chin, raised her eyes back up to his. "Not completely. That's what family does." He leaned forward and gently pressed his lips to hers, then drew back. "Besides, I kinda like it when you get all hot and bothered."

~vVv~

"Tomorrow," she whispered, threading her fingers through the back of his hair.

"What?" he questioned, looking down at where she lay, snuggled into his shoulder on the edge of his bed.

She'd tucked him in and then climbed up beside him before he'd had a chance to protest – not that he would have. After all, it was Friday and she was tempted to stay the night; he was tempted to let her.

"Your hair. I think I'll trim it tomorrow."

"I don't recall agreeing to a haircutting appointment," he grinned, pressing his lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss. "Besides, I think my Saturday is all booked up – breakfast, therapy, lunch, more therapy, shower, dinner, and somewhere I have to fit in time for my sister and ex-girlfriend."

He'd decided to contact both of them tomorrow, but Kathryn could tell he was still nervous about his decision.

She looked up at him. "Do you want me to be here?"

"Well, I was hoping we could share breakfast – and that's not an invitation – unless you want it to be."

Kathryn smiled at the hopeful glint in his eye and glanced over at the clock on the bedside table – 2300 hours. "A part of me definitely wants that, but, I'm afraid, better heads and better backs will have to prevail. This bed isn't big enough for both of us on a long term basis. This old body doesn't bounce back like it used to."

He hugged her closer. "There is nothing old about this body."

"Flattery," she sighed.

"Truth," he breathed.

"All right. Accepted. Gratefully." She rubbed her hand along the neckline of his t-shirt, fingers soft on warm skin. "But you didn't answer my question. Do you want me here when you contact Sekaya and Seven?"

She felt him draw in a deep breath, his chest rising under her cheek. "I want you here all the time, but… Well, I think I need to talk to them on my own. Is that all right?"

"Of course, that's all right, Chakotay. I just want to be here if…"

"I need you?"

She patted his shoulder. "You'll be fine. Sekaya's going to be so glad to hear from you."

He snorted. "She'll be mad as hell that I kept this from her."

Kathryn glared at him.

"And then she'll be glad," he agreed.

"So will Seven," she assured him.

He sighed. "I'm not so sure. I mean, we parted on good terms, but… we really haven't talked a lot since we broke up."

"Chakotay, she contacted the Doctor to see how you were doing. She cares."'

"I know she does."

Kathryn sat up. "Well, you have a full day tomorrow, and I don't want to turn into a pumpkin, so I better be going." She moved her legs over the side of the bed and stood, turning to place a kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you for breakfast, and then maybe I'll go shopping for a while."

Chakotay frowned. "Kathryn, you hate to shop."

"Not always. It all depends on what I'm looking for."

He eyed her carefully. "And what will you be looking for tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure. But I'll know it when I see it." And she gave him another kiss, this time on the lips.

~vVv~


	29. Chapter 29

Chakotay managed one blueberry pancake, while Kathryn finished off three. He sat back in his chair and commented on her appetite in comparison with his lack of one.

She reached over and took his hand, gave it a gentle squeeze. "That's because I have a full morning of shopping ahead of me, and you're a bit nervous about calling your sister and Seven. You'll be hungry by lunchtime. And I'll be back by then. We can compare notes." She'd already moved the computer over to the table, and she turned it toward him as she stood to leave. "They're going to be so pleased to hear from you."

He gave her a doubtful look, but, as she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and a whispered "good luck" to his ear, he reached out for the computer and started keying in his sister's comm address.

Kathryn smiled, and with a reassuring pat on his shoulder, she left. He'd be all right on his own.

It took several long moments for the call to go through – like Bajor, Dorvan V was a long way away, but then the screen was filled with the image of his sister, dark hair and eyes so much like his own. Her expression lit up when she realized who it was, a broad smile spreading over her face.

"Chakotay! What a wonderful surprise! I wasn't expecting to hear from you until next month."

Even as he returned her smile, he felt the beginning of tears prick his eyes. Damn it, he wasn't going to do this, but seeing his sister caused the weight of the past few weeks to suddenly press down on him, and he felt himself beginning to shake.

Sekaya saw it. Even after seven years in the Delta Quadrant, she still knew him too well. "Chakotay? Are you all right? What is it?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine. I'm just… glad to see you."

She wasn't buying it. "And I'm glad to see you, too. Now tell me the truth."

And he gave a half laugh. "I never could keep anything from you."

Her gaze hardened. "Chakotay…"

He sighed. "I really am all right… now."

She saw him swallow on that last word, and her expression softened. "Now? What happened?"

"A week ago last Tuesday I was in my office when I got a terrible headache – pain shooting through the side of my head. Next thing I knew, I was on the floor. Then Tom Paris showed up, got me to Starfleet Medical." He could see her lower lip trembling as tears filled her eyes. "It was a stroke."

"Oh, Chakotay."

"My left side was weak; I had difficulty speaking, trouble remembering some things. I couldn't walk at first. But…I'm a lot better now. I'm up on my feet, getting around. Memory's good. Most of the time." He saw the fear in her eyes. "They fixed me, Sekky. I'm all right. Really."

She pressed her fingers to her lips, took several deep breaths. "You promise?"

And Chakotay smiled at her words; it was a routine from childhood. Whenever she was scared or worried about something, he would tell her that everything was all right. But she wouldn't believe him until he made it a promise, like he did now.

"I promise."

A moment passed, and then another, and then he saw a flash in her eyes. "And it took you almost two weeks to contact me?"

And he started laughing and crying at the same time as she let him have it.

"You're at Starfleet Medical and you didn't think that maybe, just maybe, your only sister might like to know that her only brother is sick."

"Sekky, I was flat on my back!"

"Don't you Sekky me. You could have had someone else call. It's not like you were in the damn Delta Quadrant!"

"I didn't want to worry you. You were too far away; there's nothing you could have done."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him. "I would have known."

"And you know now. And I'm better able to talk with you about it."

"You should have asked Kathryn to contact me."

The use of her name surprised him, brought him up short. And he took a deep breath. "Why Kathryn?"

Sekaya blinked at him, wiping at the remaining tears in her eyes. "She's been with you, hasn't she?"

"Yes, but… Why would you assume that?"

And she released an exhausted sigh. "Chakotay, give me some credit. Four months ago, you came home from the Delta Quadrant professing to care for one woman and all you could talk about the entire week you were here was another. Almost every story you told revolved around Kathryn, not Seven. And I could see the look in your eyes when you talked about her."

"Why didn't you say something?"

"There was no need for me to question your relationship with Seven. You were already questioning it yourself. I could tell." She smiled softly. "I knew you'd figure it out."

Chakotay frowned slightly at her words. "Remember - Seven broke up with me."

Sekaya chuckled. "She just figured it out a little sooner than you did." She hesitated for a moment. "You've been in love with Kathryn for a long time. Dating Seven wasn't going to change that."

Chakotay's mouth thinned into a hard line. "I wasn't trying to replace my feelings for Kathryn by dating another woman." There was a hint of defensiveness in his tone. "I really did care about Seven."

"I know you did. And I'm sure Seven knows that, too." She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, studying the lines of her brother's face, wishing she could reach through the computer and wrap her arms around him. "I'm just so thankful that Kathryn has been there with you. I know she travels a lot."

"She was on Vulcan when it happened, but she came the next day. And she… she stayed."

"Chakotay?"

He nodded. "Yeah." The corners of his mouth lifted into a familiar dimpled grin. "We… finally admitted some things to each other."

Sekaya knew that their friendship had grown stronger since his break-up with Seven; she'd been waiting for this.

"So it takes a stroke to knock some sense into the two of you?" she sighed.

"At least something good came out of it."

"It did. And…I'm happy for you."

He heard the hesitancy. "What? No one's good enough for your big brother?"

"That's not it… I am happy. For both of you. I just… I don't want you… to be hurt." She'd listened carefully to all those stories he'd told her about those years in the Delta Quadrant; his love for Kathryn was written plainly between every line. But as much as Sekaya believed that this woman did love her brother, still, she'd made him wait.

She saw a look of calm determination settle in his eyes, and his next words were soft but firm. "You don't have to worry about that. I promise."

And that was all she needed to hear. Almost.

"You're sure you're all right physically?" Her look of concern was still evident.

And he laughed gently, shaking his head. "I promised that, too, didn't I?"

And she nodded, forced herself to relax. He was all right. And he had Kathryn. And that was good.

"So, where is the rest of the family?" he asked, moving the topic of conversation away from him.

Sekaya smiled. "They've all gone to the park down by the river. They're going to be disappointed that they missed you."

"I'm sorry I missed them, too. Sorry I'm not there; I love that park."

"I know you do," she laughed, remembering his visit and how he'd climbed all over the play structures with Paka and Calusa, the biggest kid of the three. "You'll have to come again soon. And bring Kathryn. I want to meet this woman who's stolen my brother's heart." _And thank her for stealing it and keeping it safe._

He smiled at her words. "She wants to meet you, too. And Koham and the kids." He lowered his eyes for a few moments, then looked back up. "I love you, Sekky."

She heard the tremor in his voice, felt the tears gathering again in her eyes. "I love you, too, brother."

~vVv~

They talked for a while longer, about Kathryn and Koham and Calusa and Paka, about family and how much they missed each other, about the future and what it had to offer, about life and how to deal with the unexpected. Chakotay never admitted to having been afraid; he'd never admitted that to her – not once in all her 46 years – but she knew, could tell by his words, his expression. This had taken him by complete surprise and shaken him more than he would ever tell her; she hoped he could share it with Kathryn – hoped that he would let her be strong for him so that he could heal and find his way.

"It's all right to lean on her for a while," she slipped into the conversation when Chakotay mentioned how supportive Kathryn had been. "From what you've told me, she has enough strength for both of you."

He simply nodded at her words – not an admission, nor a denial, just silent agreement.

"Koham and I have our own mutual support team - there are days when he holds me up, and other days when I hold him. Of course, we have to maintain a united front or your niece and nephew will rule the roost."

He grinned. "I thought they already did."

"Only when you're here and they're showing out for their favorite uncle."

"Tell them hello for me. Give them big kisses."

"I will." Sekaya drew in a deep breath. "You take care. Tell Kathryn… thank you."

~vVv~

"You're sure he's all right on his own?"

Kathryn looked over at her shopping partner and sighed. "You're worse than I am. He's a grown man; he can talk to his sister and his…"

"Ex-girlfriend."

"On his own." She picked up the silver tray she was looking at and examined the back of it. "Besides, I'm not sure what advice I could give him – especially when it comes to Seven."

B'Elanna leaned against the table beside her and looked around. They were standing in the middle of a little antique shop in the Mission District. Kathryn had called right after breakfast and asked if she'd like to go antiquing – not something that B'Elanna usually did, but she could tell that her former captain was probably looking for more than just antiques, and if she could provide some answers, she was willing to try.

"I don't know much about their relationship – then or now," B'Elanna admitted, rolling her eyes. "Tom says it's not from lack of trying. Although, when it started, I was a little preoccupied."

Kathryn laughed, setting the tray down and picking up a wine goblet, the cut crystal sparkling in the morning sunlight that was streaming through the window. "That's like saying you were a little pregnant, which you weren't."

B'Elanna sighed. "Still, Kathryn, I should have seen it… I should have done… something."

Kathryn studied the glass in her hand. "B'Elanna… I saw it, and I didn't do anything…" She returned the goblet to the table. "I realized that… he deserved to be happy."

"So did you."

"And I am. Now." She smiled and walked over to another table, her eyes scanning the items scattered across it. "Chakotay and Seven meant something to each other at a time when… they were both looking for…"

"A father figure?" B'Elanna snorted.

And Kathryn stifled a laugh. "That's not nice – and besides, he's already admitted that the – age gap was too wide. Cut him a break."

"You sound like Tom."

"And you sound like the little sister who thinks no one's good enough for her big brother."

B'Elanna shrugged, casting a grin in Kathryn's direction. "You're good enough."

She reached over and patted the younger woman's arm. "That's a relief to know. Because you're both stuck with me."

B'Elanna followed Kathryn's gaze as she perused the contents of the table. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"I'm not sure. But I'll know it when I see it."

She'd already said that twice during their shopping excursion, and B'Elanna was a bit perplexed – and she didn't like being perplexed. She thought for a moment. "Something for your mother's birthday?"

Kathryn shook her head. "That's was last month. I got her a bottle of wine from that little vineyard that I like in Sonoma."

"Something for Chakotay?"

"Maybe, but he's a hard one to shop for. Besides, his birthday isn't until next month."

"All the more reason to start now," B'Elanna said as her eyes roamed around the shop, taking on a somewhat predatory glow.

"Well, if you know it when you see it," Kathryn laughed, "will you tell me?"

~vVv~


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!

She'd broken up with him. There were times when he liked to think that it was mutual, and, in some ways, it was. But she had been the one to say the first words, to broach the subject, to start the conversation that had led to her requesting permanent Starfleet housing of her own and moving out of the apartment they had shared for three weeks.

He hadn't actually seen it coming. Or maybe he had. It's not like it hit him square between the eyes, like it did the first time on _Voyager_ when she'd informed him after their fourth date that she had decided to "alter the parameters" of their relationship. He'd never had any damn luck with parameters. But a month later he'd only been slightly surprised when she'd said, "Perhaps we should see other people." He still wondered where she'd gotten that line - from the Doctor perhaps or an online data source – Dating for Dummies 101. It was just so cliché. And that was one thing Seven rarely was – cliché. By very nature of her being – one of only two ex-Borgs on Earth – she was, if anything, exquisitely unique.

And he had cared for her. Maybe more deeply than he was still willing to admit. It had felt nice, especially at the beginning, to be desired, to be… courted in some ways. She had, after all, taken a lot of the initiative. Oh, he had arranged the first date, suggesting lunch in the mess hall ostensibly to talk about possible modifications to the astrometric sensors. But Seven had seen through that, and had asked, somewhat bluntly, "Is this a date, Commander?" And he'd managed a grin, nodding affirmatively. From that point on, she had steered the dating waters fairly well, conducting her own research into the appropriateness of subsequent dates – a picnic in the cargo bay, a quiet dinner in his quarters - where she'd been the one to bring him flowers and then make the first move by kissing him, thus alleviating any possible tension brought on by anticipation.

It had all been researched, but not necessarily planned. The Doctor had removed the failsafe on her cortical node so that she could experience the full range of emotions, not realizing, perhaps, that those emotions would only be heightened in light of their immediate circumstances – on the cusp of finding their way back to the Alpha Quadrant with encroaching Borg and an admiral from the future who may have divulged more than she should have.

He could still remember how he'd felt when he'd talked with her in the astrometrics lab soon after Admiral Janeway had entered the hub, could still remember what he'd said. _Maybe you can just flip some Borg switch and shut down your emotions, but I can't. _He hadn't known about the failsafe – hadn't known that it even existed, certainly hadn't known that the Doctor had removed it, and, despite her words, hadn't known that she could no longer flip some Borg switch and shut down her emotions. What he had known was that he was beginning to feel something for Seven, was beginning to become intimately involved with a beautiful young woman who was fully discovering herself. It was intoxicating, and exhilarating, and frightening all at the same time – and he wasn't about to let her walk away. And when she'd collapsed into his arms and allowed the tears to fall, he'd held onto her, with no plans to ever let her go.

A month later when she'd suggested that they see other people, he'd agreed.

He wasn't sure when it started to change, when the intoxication and exhilaration gave way to the routine of two people sharing an apartment, going through their days, trying to find who they were in this new place and who they were together.

The first week back had been a never-ending series of debriefings and news conferences, and Chakotay had stayed by Seven's side as much as possible, diverting unwanted attention and defending her service to _Voyager_ when Starfleet questioned her loyalty.

He'd escorted her to the gala reception, and they'd watched as family and friends celebrated the return of the _Voyager_ crew. Irene Hansen, Seven's aunt, had attended, but they were still just getting to know each other, and at the end of the night, Seven hadn't gone home with her. She'd gone home with him.

It was the first time they'd made love.

And maybe that was when it changed.

Two days later, Chakotay went to Dorvan V for a week.

And three weeks after that, they realized that it wouldn't work.

At least, Seven did.

_Perhaps we should see other people._

The words came back to him as he stared at the computer screen.

Well, he was seeing another person now.

And Seven deserved to hear that from him.

He typed in her comm address and waited for the connection to go through. A few moments later, Seven's image filled the screen, blue eyes wide and clear, blond hair swept back tightly from her face.

"Chakotay, it's good to see you. I've been concerned."

He shifted in his chair, leaned closer to the screen. "I know. Thank you. I'm sorry I haven't contacted you sooner."

"There's no need for an apology. You have been dealing with a medical crisis. Contacting me was irrelevant."

He shook his head at her words. "No, Seven, it wasn't irrelevant. I wanted you to know, but I've been…pretty busy. I'm just now starting to get up on my feet, getting around with crutches some, but mostly still in a wheelchair."

"The Doctor has informed me that you are improving. I'm pleased to hear that."

He nodded. "I am better, but it was… scary at first. I couldn't move my left side, and I had some difficulty talking. Memory was a bit cloudy, but it's… getting there."

"You're very determined. I'm certain you will recover."

"I appreciate the vote of confidence." He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "How have you been?"

"I'm fine. My work is… interesting. And I've made… some new friends."

She smiled – finally – and Chakotay felt both of them start to relax. "I'm glad to hear you're socializing more."

"A former first officer once told me it might do me some good."

Chakotay grinned. "Must have been a very smart man."

"He still is." And then her face grew serious again. "How much longer will you be at Starfleet Medical?"

He shrugged. "Five, six more days maybe. They haven't given me a specific date."

"Will you be able to go home by yourself?" She didn't like the idea of him going back to his apartment alone.

"I haven't really decided yet." And he supposed it was now or never. "I might… go home with Kathryn."

He saw Seven's eyebrows rise slightly. "She's been there with you?"

He nodded.

"I'm relieved to hear that. I know how much she travels."

"Seven, we've-"

"Admitted your feelings to each other."

"Yes."

She smiled – again. "I'm happy for both of you. As I'm sure B'Elanna would say, it's about time." She hesitated. "You've always loved her, Chakotay."

"Seven, our relationship was important to me. We did care about each other."

"We did. But, it wasn't love. We both know that." She looked down for a second, then back up. "You and Kathryn are supposed to be together. Take care of each other."

Chakotay was silent for several moments, taking in her words, the expression on her face. Then he spoke. "Thank you, Seven. We will."

~vVv~

She found it in an old book store. B'Elanna, who had followed Kathryn in and out of a half a dozen shops already, had sighed with relief when she'd picked it up and carried it to the register.

"This is it?" B'Elanna stared at the small grey book that Kathryn placed on the counter.

"This is it," she replied, reaching into her purse to retrieve her credit voucher and handing it to the salesclerk.

"You're sure?"

And Kathryn smiled. "I told you I'd know it when I saw it."

~vVv~

She returned in time for lunch, only to find him sprawled on top of the bed asleep. And she'd almost laughed out loud. Apparently, talking to your sister and ex-girlfriend was a strenuous task. She was sure the worry alone had exhausted him.

She wanted to kiss him – his forehead, his cheek – but she didn't want to wake him.

And so, very quietly she took the small book out of her purse, opened it to the inside cover, placed it on the bedside table, and left. She'd come back later.

~vVv~

He wasn't sure how long he'd slept. He remembered wheeling over to the bed and transferring onto it. He was steady enough to do that by himself now. He remembered closing his eyes – just to rest and wait for Kathryn.

But when he opened his eyes, he knew that time had passed. He glanced over at the clock on the bedside table – almost 1400 hours. He'd missed lunch, and apparently they'd let him sleep. He looked at the clock again and noticed a small open book beside it.

Rolling over, he reached out with his right hand and picked it up, looked at the inside cover, recognized Kathryn's handwriting.

And he read the words she'd written:

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;

so I love you because I know no other way than this:

where I does not exist, nor you,

so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,

so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda

~vVv~


	31. Chapter 31

Chakotay was propped up against his pillows, book in hand, when she came in a half hour later.

"How did you know?" he questioned, watching as she pulled the tray table closer to the bed and deposited a paper bag on top of it.

"I saw it."

And he smiled, remembering her words from last night. _I'll know it when I see it._

"But we've never talked about Pablo Neruda. How did you know that I liked his poetry?"

"I know you," she answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and opening the bag. She took out two wrapped sandwiches and placed them on the table. "And I know you'll like this, too. Mushroom Florentine muffalettas."

Chakotay set the book on the table and leaned forward. "Umm, that does sound good," he agreed, unwrapping the sandwich in front of him. "Apparently, I slept through lunch."

"I came back a little after 1200 hours and asked them not to wake you. I figured if you were falling asleep in the middle of the day, you must be tired." She pulled two bottles of water from the bag and opened them. "Worrying can wear you out."

"I wasn't… worried," he mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich.

And she frowned, giving him that look that always seemed to say "remember who you're talking to."

"Well, not overly worried," he amended, picking up a bottle and taking a big gulp of water.

"Not overly worried now, I take it." She smiled. "How did it go?"

"Not bad. Sekaya only yelled a little and Seven… was Seven."

"Rational, logical, and relevant?" Kathryn surmised.

Chakotay nodded. "All of the above." And then he grinned around the sandwich in his hand. "That's probably why we were destined to break up. I can only take so much rationality, logic, and relevancy."

Kathryn sighed. "I thought that might be why you started dating in the first place. Dealing with me every day might make someone crave a little rationality and logic."

"Ah, yes, but you're always relevant." He set down his sandwich and picked up the book. "Especially with this." And he ran his fingers over the inside cover. "These words… It's how I feel. I've loved you… for so long, and I don't know how, or when, or from where." Reaching out, he took her hand in his. "And this hand, on my chest." He pulled it to his lips, kissed the open palm. "Do you have any idea what that did to me all those years?"

She sighed, turned her hand so that her fingers brushed along his cheek, then down to rest lightly against his neck before touching his chest. "Why do you think I kept doing it?"

He laughed, covering her hand with his. "And I wonder how many nights our eyes closed at the same time."

Kathryn looked down for a moment. "I wonder about that, too." She raised her eyes back to his. "So many nights I fell asleep thinking about you, just on the other side of that wall, so close and yet…"

"Separated by parameters and protocols." He squeezed her hand as she pressed it closer to his chest, felt the steady beating of his heart under her fingertips.

"But not anymore," she whispered. "I love you because I know no other way than this." And she leaned forward and gave him a gentle kiss.

~vVv~

They may have let him sleep through lunch, but therapy was another matter. By 1500 hours, Scott had him on his crutches and walking the halls – or attempting to walk them at least. The damn things kept getting in the way of his feet. There were simply too many points of contact with the floor, and despite Scott's coaching, Chakotay was finding it difficult to manipulate them. They chafed around his wrists and forearms, and he couldn't seem to decide if it were better to lean to the right more or to the left. And when he rounded the nurse's station, he discovered that it was best not to lean too much at all.

Because he fell.

And she wasn't there to catch him.

No one was.

Before anyone could even move to stop his fall, he'd cracked his head on the corner of the counter and then found himself slumped awkwardly on the floor, crutches skewed to the sides, right leg doubled under him, the braced left leg straight out in front. Blood dripped from a gash above his right eye.

Beth was there almost immediately, kneeling beside him, and Scott showed up a few seconds later, leaning over with a concerned look on his face.

Chakotay blinked at them, and then grinned. "Guess I took that corner a little too fast." And he winced when Beth touched a piece of gauze to the cut, dabbing at the blood.

"This doesn't look too bad," she assured, accepting the dermal regenerator that another nurse handed to her. Touching her fingers to his chin, she held his head steady as she passed the instrument over his forehead.

Down the hall, the door to his room opened, and Kathryn stepped out. When she saw them huddled around Chakotay, she hurried toward them.

"Chakotay!"

He held up a hand as if to stop her as she knelt on the other side of him. "I'm all right." And he saw her visibly relax and glance over at Beth.

The nurse nodded at his words as she finished with the regenerator. Then she pulled back and Kathryn could see the faint mark of pink above his eyebrow that would fade completely away in a few minutes. "He seems to have four left feet at the moment, but other than that, he's just fine."

He gave Kathryn a bemused grin. "I'm not much of a dancer, either."

Kathryn smiled and wrapped her hand around his left arm as Scott took hold of his right. Together, they helped pull him up to his feet. He leaned unsteadily against the counter while Beth retrieved his wheelchair.

Once he was settled into it, he looked up at Scott and sighed. "This isn't working. I'm afraid I'm too uncoordinated to handle crutches."

He felt Kathryn give him a playful swat on his shoulder. "You are not uncoordinated. I've seen you in the boxing ring too many times to know that."

Scott started to push him back toward his room while Kathryn walked along beside. "Don't get discouraged. Some people don't do well with crutches. I think we'll try you with a cane tomorrow."

This time Kathryn rubbed her hand gently over his shoulders. "Oh, a cane sounds perfect. We'll get you a pipe and one of those coats with patches on the elbows. You'll look very distinguished, Professor Chakotay."

He stared up at her and rolled his eyes at the image, wanting to accuse her of one too many fantasies. But he thought better of it since Scott was there. He could always tease her later. Or perhaps they could just explore that fantasy a little further.

~vVv~

"I thought you were kidding about cutting my hair," Chakotay said warily as he watched Kathryn place a comb and a portable hair clipper on the table in front of him. Then he watched as she retrieved a spare gown from the cabinet, shook it out, and then draped it around his shoulders.

"Oh, I never kid about cutting hair," she said in mock seriousness.

"When was the last time you cut someone's hair?"

"I cut my sister's hair before her junior high prom," Kathryn answered confidently as she tied the gown securely around his neck.

"And Phoebe's what – four years younger than you?"

"Um-um." She was combing his hair now, parting it down the middle.

"So we're talking over 25 years ago?" A note of worry was creeping into his voice.

She sighed. "Chakotay, it's like riding a bicycle. You don't forget."

He twisted around in the chair, reached up and grabbed hold of her hands. "And when was the last time you rode a bicycle? And please don't say on the same day you cut Phoebe's hair."

Kathryn laughed and pulled her hands away, forced his head back around. She resumed her hair combing. "And who cut your hair on _Voyager_?"

"I usually got Chell to do it."

"Chell?!"

"Don't sound so surprised. I've never known a Bolian who couldn't cut hair."

Kathryn set the comb back on the table and picked up the clippers. "Chef and barber. I never knew Chell was so talented." She touched the on button and the clipper emitted a low hum as she ran it along the back of his neck.

He flinched slightly and she pulled the clipper away. "Don't move – unless you want a traditional mohawk."

"Wrong tribe," Chakotay smiled, settling back into the chair.

She lowered the clipper to his neck – only to feel him move again. She released an audible sigh.

"It tickles," he complained, pulling away and twisting his head to one side just as the door to his room slid open.

"Did you give Chell this much trouble?"

"Oh, he gave Chell more."

They both looked over to see B'Elanna, Miral in her arms, walking into the room.

"It was like watching a four-year-old get his hair cut," B'Elanna continued with a wide grin on her face. "It either tickled or it pinched. I'm surprised he didn't demand a lollipop when Chell was done."

Chakotay pointed an accusing finger at her. "That'll be enough out of you." Then he motioned toward Miral and uttered his standard line. "Hand her over."

B'Elanna shook her head. "Uh-uh, not until Kathryn's finished."

"Get finished," he demanded, glaring up at Kathryn.

"Then sit still. It'll only take me another minute." She bent back to her work as B'Elanna settled herself into a chair across from them. "This is a nice surprise. Where's Tom?"

"Helping his mother prune her garden."

Kathryn raised an eyebrow. "Tom? Gardening? I never knew."

"When Julia Paris asks for help in the garden, you help in the garden." She balanced Miral on her knee. "But, since she didn't ask us, we came to see Uncle Chakotay and Auntie Kathryn. Didn't we?" She planted a kiss on the baby's cheek, and Miral gurgled and waved her hands in the air.

"Are you finished?" Chakotay asked.

B'Elanna could see that he was itching to hold Miral – there had been a connection between them from the moment he'd first held her in _Voyager_'s sickbay.

Kathryn sighed and stepped back. "There – all done." And she untied the gown and pulled it away, holding it carefully so the short pieces of cut hair wouldn't fall on the floor. She went over and pushed it into the recycler.

Chakotay held out his hands and B'Elanna deposited the baby onto his lap, settling her firmly into the crook of his right arm. Miral instantly smiled up at him, cooing and reaching for his chin.

B'Elanna shook her head. "She can't keep her hands off you."

And Chakotay grinned mischievously. "All women feel that way about me," he said, earning himself a playful slap on the back of the head from Kathryn, which only served to prove his point. "See," he laughed, looking up at her.

And she sighed again, leaning over and kissing him on the forehead. "You're incorrigible," she declared, setting the clipper back on the table. "But at least your hair isn't brushing against your collar anymore."

"Thank you," he said, somewhat grudgingly, then leaned down to make funny faces at the baby.

Miral laughed as he bounced her on his knee.

Kathryn sank into the chair next to his and looked over at B'Elanna. "So, did you find a place to put it?"

And B'Elanna rolled her eyes. "I still can't believe you let me buy that."

"Buy what?" Chakotay asked.

B'Elanna cast a chagrined expression at him. "An antique birdcage," she admitted.

"But you don't have an antique bird," he teased.

"No, but if I did, I have a cage for it now."

Kathryn laughed. "She knew it when she saw it."

"Well, I've looked all around the apartment, and I don't know a place to put it."

"What did Tom say?"

"He suggested we give it to his mother to put in the garden. Then he said I can't go antiquing with you anymore. Sorry."

Chakotay, who was tickling the baby and making her laugh, looked up at Kathryn. "Thanks for not bringing me a birdcage."

B'Elanna smiled over at him. "I take it you liked your present."

"I did. Very much."

"And I take it that… your day went well?"

He sat back in his chair, transferring Miral to his shoulder, holding her in place with his right arm while his left hand began to pat her back. He was beginning to see B'Elanna's real motive behind her late afternoon visit. She wanted the scoop on his conversation with Seven.

But Kathryn beat him to the reply. "Oh, he's had a great day. He took a swan dive in the hall and almost creased his tattoo."

Instinctively, B'Elanna leaned forward, as if protecting him after the fact. "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine." He grimaced in Kathryn's direction.

And her eyebrows knitted together at the expression on his face. "I'm sorry. Were we going to keep that a secret?" She said it seriously, but he could hear the laughter in her voice.

"I have no more secrets," he groaned, even as a grin tugged at the corners of his lips. He looked back at B'Elanna. "Apparently what I do have are four left feet when it comes to crutches."

"They're going to give him a cane tomorrow," Kathryn chimed in.

"Ooh, very distinguished."

"I thought the same thing," Kathryn agreed, reaching over and placing her hand on his left thigh, patting it gently. "I told him we could get him a pipe. And, seriously Chakotay, you probably need reading glasses."

He whispered in Miral's ear. "Give me some help here, kid. They're ganging up on me."

B'Elanna laughed. "Well, we're allowed to, but…"

"But what?" He looked over at her again, anticipating her question.

She took a deep breath and jumped in. "How did your conversation go with Seven?"

And Chakotay nodded. He knew she'd get around to it, knew she was overly protective of him when it came to Seven, knew that she'd never quite approved of his relationship with her, no matter how brief it had been.

And he released a long breath. "It went fine. We're still… friends. We still care about each other. She was happy for both of us."

B'Elanna stared at him somewhat incredulously. "Are you saying that she gave you her blessings?"

And Chakotay chuckled at her phrasing. "Well, not in so many words. But I really think that she was pleased for us." Still holding Miral with his right arm, he moved his left hand down and covered Kathryn's hand that was still resting solid and warm on his thigh. "She told us to take care of each other." He gazed over into Kathryn's eyes. "I told her we would."

~vVv~


	32. Chapter 32

Surprisingly, walking with the cane was much easier than using the crutches. He didn't have to worry about which way to lean since he held the cane in his right hand and instinctively leaned to the right. Both Scott and Taryn worked with him, teaching him to lead with his weaker leg and bring the stronger one up to meet it. By late Monday afternoon, he felt like he'd put in more miles through the therapy rooms and hallways than he'd covered in the Delta Quadrant. Each step brought him closer to full independence.

And closer to home.

"Don't round the corners too fast," Scott called as he watched him pace past the nurse's station and disappear down the adjoining hall that circled back around to where he was standing.

Beside him, Kathryn sighed. "He doesn't always learn from past mistakes. It's that hard-headed Maquis tendency that gets in the way."

Scott smiled. "It might be that Maquis tendency that's brought him this far this fast. He's really come a long way in the past two weeks. In fact, I think the Doctor and Sam are coming by in a while to talk to both of you. They'll probably release him tomorrow."

Kathryn drew in a deep breath. It was good news to hear, but still… "Is he really ready?"

"What do you think?" Scott replied, looking down the hallway as Chakotay appeared from the other side.

He was walking at a steady pace, each step thought out, well-placed, and solid. But his eyes were still focused on his feet and the floor.

And Kathryn grinned. "At some point he's going to have to look up and see where he's going."

At her words, he raised his head and glared at her. "I heard that," he grimaced.

"Well, that's good because you definitely didn't see it," she threw back at him teasingly.

"She's right, Chakotay. Keep your head up and slow down. This isn't a race."

He was beside them now, and Kathryn leaned up and kissed his cheek. "But if it were a race, you'd be the winner."

"Only one competing," he sighed, pressing his cheek closer for another kiss, which she gave him.

"You're looking really good," Scott observed. "How does it feel?"

Chakotay glanced down at the cane in his right hand and then at his braced left leg. "Feels fairly solid." He looked back down the hall. "Flat surfaces are no problem, but I'll need some more practice with stairs." They'd spent several hours in the gym that morning working on stepping up and down a string of six stair steps. With support from the railing, he did well, but it wasn't easy.

"Oh, I think you'll be getting plenty of practice with stairs. Maybe starting as soon as tomorrow." Kathryn wrapped an arm around his waist, held him close as he deciphered her words.

"Tomorrow?" His eyebrows lifted and he glanced toward Scott.

The physical therapist grinned. "Rumor has it they're springing you tomorrow. What do you think about going home?"

Chakotay let out a slow breath and shifted his gaze back to the woman beside him, her face pressed into his shoulder, her grey-blue eyes sparkling up at him. He smiled gently and kissed the top of her head. "I think… it's about damn time."

~vVv~

"You may need some at-home care, especially when Kathryn's at work – although you will still be spending a large portion of your time in out-patient therapy with Scott and Taryn," the Doctor informed them.

Chakotay groaned slightly. "So going home won't be much different than being here."

Across the room, Sam shook his head. "Don't underestimate the changes that going home will present. Even though you'll continue your therapy, and you will come back here at times, there will be some days when Scott and Taryn come to you." He smiled over at Kathryn. "From what I hear, you have a brand new home and neighborhood to explore. It's going to take some getting used to."

Kathryn ran a hand down along his arm. "I've already gotten a lot of things from your apartment, so you'll feel right at home."

Chakotay issued a soft sigh. "That's good – because I never felt at home in that apartment."

"Taryn will go with you tomorrow afternoon to help you get settled in – help you establish new routines and figure out how to get around in your new setting." Sam glanced at Kathryn. "I understand there are some steps in your house."

Chakotay caught her eye and grinned. "As long as I can manage more than one, I'll be all right."

Sam chuckled. "I'm sure you will be." He looked over at the Doctor and nodded.

"Going home will present some other changes as well," the Doctor began, his eyes shifting from Chakotay to Kathryn. "In your relationship."

Knowing where this was heading, Kathryn felt her cheeks flush slightly, and she reached out and picked up Chakotay's hand, wrapped her fingers around his.

The Doctor looked back at Chakotay and continued. "Sam and I want to assure you that, other than the residual weakness in you left leg, which will get better in time, you are completely healed. There's no reason that you can't resume all of your normal activities… including sexual relations."

Chakotay's mouth twisted slightly and he nodded, looking down and then back up. He strengthened his hold on Kathryn's hand. "That's… good to know."

The Doctor grinned. "I thought you might be pleased." His eyes caught Kathryn's. "And, might I add, it's about time."

Kathryn rubbed a hand over her face, fingers hiding an embarrassed smile. But she couldn't deny his words. "You're right." And she leaned over and kissed Chakotay's cheek. "It is about time."

~vVv~

"What is this?" Chakotay laughed as he watched his room slowly fill with visitors. Kathryn was there, and then Taryn and Scott, followed by B'Elanna and Tom; then Harry and Libby; the Doctor, Sam, and Paul; Joseph and Beth, and several of the other nurses.

"I believe it's a going home party," Tom declared placing a platter in the middle of the table. "Jibelian fudge cake. I used Neelix's recipe."

"I used Neelix's recipe," B'Elanna countered loudly. "Flyboy here just read the directions."

"That's the way we work," Tom laughed, pulling her close and kissing her cheek. "I fly the ship; you supply the power."

"What kind of frosting is this?" Harry questioned, even as he sliced off a corner piece for himself.

"That was our one modification to the recipe. B'Elanna insisted on cream cheese."

"I know how much Chakotay likes it," she defended her choice, grinning over at him as the cake was sliced and served.

The assembled crowd pressed in, mingling and talking, and Chakotay sat at the table, the center of attention.

Soon, Kathryn found herself on the periphery of the group, sitting on the edge of his bed, observing the festivities more than joining in. Someone had pushed a plate of cake into her hands, and she had taken a few bites, surprised to find that it was almost as good as Neelix's. And the cream cheese frosting did add a unique taste.

The Doctor sank down beside her, and handed her a glass of punch. She stared at the pink beverage somewhat warily. "Any good?"

"Perhaps too many bubbles, but palatable."

She took a sip; it tickled her nose, and was a bit overly sweet, but not bad.

"You're sitting on the edge of things," he observed, surprised that she wasn't right at Chakotay's side as she had been for the past few weeks.

"Just watching," she smiled, as Tom presented Chakotay with a bright orange knitted item and she heard the words "cane cozy" followed by laughter.

The Doctor followed her gaze. "He's doing quite well," he said softly, but even over the noise, Kathryn could hear him.

"Yes, he is." But her voice was tentative.

"And he'll continue to do well," the Doctor added affirmatively, sensing her concern.

She glanced over at him. "I know. I just…"

"Worry," he finished her thought.

And Kathryn sighed. "Old habits…"

"But we're not in the Delta Quadrant anymore. And even when we were, you were never alone." She felt his hand touch hers. "You have each other, Kathryn. You'll be all right."

"You once told me that I shouldn't try to control every aspect of a relationship, that romance is born out of differences as well as similarities – out of the unexpected, as well as the familiar." She drew in a deep breath. "Well, I've seen the unexpected these past few weeks."

"And you've handled it just fine. You both have."

And they saw Chakotay cast a beaming smile in Kathryn's direction.

"You've never been afraid of taking risks," the Doctor reminded her. "Especially when they're worth it."

~vVv~

Two hours later, Kathryn stood in the doorway to her kitchen, coffee cup in hand, and watched as Taryn led Chakotay through some of his new routines: how to maneuver around the living room, the step down from the entry area, the three steps up to the hall that led to the bedroom. She familiarized him with the bathroom, shower and bath controls, where Kathryn had put his razor and toothbrush. He located his clothing in the drawers and closet, found his books on the shelf, was pleased to see his family photographs situated on top of the dresser with Kathryn's.

Finally, he settled down onto the living room sofa and smiled, gratefully accepted the cup of tea she handed him. Taryn stood at the door, ready to leave, having refused the offer of coffee or tea.

She grinned and shook her head. "My work here is done for the day," she announced. "You've got the general lay of the land, and you'll be fine. Just remember, be careful on the stairs – use the railing both ways."

He nodded, raised his left hand, fingers pointing up in a salute. "Scout's honor," he promised.

And Kathryn laughed as she stood next to Taryn. "Don't listen to him. He was never a scout."

"I was for the Maquis," he argued teasingly.

"Good enough for me," Taryn smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow. Get some rest."

Kathryn gave her a hug goodbye and whispered in her ear, "Thanks." Then she stepped back down into the living room and joined Chakotay on the sofa.

"I think you know this house better than I do now." She sighed, toeing off her shoes and stretching her feet up onto the coffee table.

Chakotay leaned forward, set his cup on the table, and reached for her legs. "Here, let me have those feet."

And before she knew it, she found her feet in his lap as she leaned against the sofa cushions in the corner. His strong hands started to massage them expertly.

"Oh, that feels good." And she gazed at him, remembering another time, another place, so far away.

She could see in his eyes that he remembered, too.

"We're home, aren't we?" she asked softly.

He held one foot cradled in his hand as his other hand slid along her leg, over her calf, up to her knee. And he smiled, gently, caressing the bare skin under his fingertips. "Almost," he breathed.

~vVv~

After an early dinner, they'd decided to turn in for the night. And now he leaned in the doorway, gripping his cane in his right hand and watching her move about the bedroom. His clothes had already been put away in the dresser drawers and closet, and he thought it odd – his clothing had moved in before he had.

She'd gotten out sweatpants and a t-shirt for him to sleep in, laid them on the bed.

"I can do it myself, Kathryn," he said quietly.

And she stopped, turned around, that gentle knowing smile that he loved so much lifting the corners of her mouth. "I know you can. I just thought you might be tired. You've had a long day."

He moved across the room, slowly, each step thought out, placed carefully, and he sank down on the side of the bed. She knelt on the floor in front of him, her hands resting softly on his thighs. She looked up at him. And he saw the love in her eyes.

"I promise. I'm not going to… coddle you. I know you can take care of yourself. That's what we've been working so hard for these past weeks." She reached up and caressed his cheek. "But it's your first night… home. And I just wanted… to make it easy."

He gave her a half-grin. "You make it easy just by being here. But, I guess I could I use a little help… tonight."

Her hands moved to the button on his jeans, and before he knew it, she had them undone, unzipped, and pulled down over his hips, thighs, and legs and pooled on the floor around his feet. She undid the brace, pulling the closures free and drawing it away from his leg. She rubbed her fingers over the pressure spots above his knee. "Are you sure these places don't hurt?"

He nodded. But she bent and, as she'd done before, kissed the reddened skin anyway, as if to make it all better. Then she pushed up on her knees to reach his shirt, helped him pull it over his head.

He shivered in the cool air, and she quickly helped him pull on the sweats and t-shirt. And then handed him his cane so he could make his way into the bathroom. She stayed in the bedroom, changing into her nightgown while he used the toilet, washed his hands and face, and brushed his teeth. By the time he made it back to the bed, he was exhausted. It _had _been a long day.

She'd pulled the covers back and he slid under them. And then lay there, staring at the ceiling.

He'd come home. To her house. Not that he minded. He'd never really felt at home in his small apartment. Most of the time, still, when he thought of home he thought of his quarters on _Voyager_.

He looked over at her. She was at the dresser now, brushing her hair, the soft auburn strands lightly brushing her shoulders, the pale peach gown clinging silkily to the curves of her body. And he realized that home was wherever she was.

She disappeared into the bathroom for a few minutes, and then she was back, pressing the light controls on the bedside table, manually lowering the illumination in the room. In the pale moonlight through the window, he watched as she moved to the bed and then climbed in beside him. He felt her move closer, curling her body around his, sliding her head onto his shoulder. Her hand rubbed over his chest.

"Is this all right?" she whispered into the near darkness.

"It's perfect," he returned, his voice low and husky, tears gathering in his eyes, a lump forming in his throat. Just that afternoon, he'd been so sure of his desire for her, so eager… But now, he was tired and uncertain…

In the past weeks, they'd both learned how important it was to communicate, openly and honestly. And he needed to tell her…

"Kathryn… I want you. But… I don't think I'm ready yet."

Her head moved on his shoulder, and she pressed a kiss against his neck. "I want you, too. But there's no rush… You're home. We have plenty of time." He felt her arms move around him, gentle hands pressing into his chest and back. "I just want to hold you."

~vVv~


	33. Chapter 33

They held each other through the night, each waking at different times to watch the other sleep, the silver glow of moonlight casting long shadows around the room. Her head was still pillowed on his shoulder, her breath soft and warm against his skin, and even in her sleep, her fingers rubbed softly across his chest, against his heart, feeling the steady beat in the silence of the room. He pressed his face into the curve of her neck, nose nuzzling under her ear, wisps of fine hair tickling softly – she smelled of roses and coffee and Kathryn – an indefinable scent that was hers alone. And his, he realized as his hands smoothed over her shoulders and breasts – touching her in the darkness, between the time after midnight and the early hours of morning. He fell back asleep with her in his arms, and in his life, and in his soul.

And when morning came, she awoke to him in her bed – where she'd wanted him for so long, wrapped up against her and around her, and her lips nibbled at his neck as her hands brushed slowly down across his chest, his stomach, the waistband of his pants…

And she felt him stiffen and pull away, the warm, sleepy body beside her suddenly hard and unyielding. The bed shook as he threw back the covers and sat up, cool morning air rushing in, invading the heated cocoon they'd created. He turned his back to her, his right leg hitting the floor on his side of the bed. She felt him pull the left leg down beside it.

She didn't move, didn't try to draw him back, but she creased her eyes open just enough to see him sitting there, his back stiff; she watched as he put his brace on over his sweatpants, then reached for his cane that was propped against the bedside table. And then he was pushing himself up, hauling himself to his feet, one hand against the mattress, the other gripping the cane, planting his feet. Pulling away.

And she let him go.

~vVv~

She found him in the kitchen, making toast the old-fashioned way, spreading butter on two pieces of bread while warming up the toaster oven. She stood behind him, watching his hands as they moved on the counter. He knew she was there; she could feel the tension stretching between them.

"We have to talk about this," she said quietly.

He stopped his movement and held very still. "About what?"

She sighed softly; he wasn't going to make this easy. She took a step closer and placed her hands on his waist, fingers resting lightly on his hips. "About not letting me touch you."

"You're touching me now," he murmured, even as she ran her hands up over his back to his shoulder blades.

Kathryn could feel the muscles tightening, the tension building; she leaned against him. "You know what I'm talking about." Gently, she moved her hands around to his chest, hugged him to her. "You're not going to have another stroke when we make love."

He grew even stiffer in her arms, but he didn't try to move away. "You don't know that," he countered, voice suddenly rough with emotion.

And Kathryn sighed again, tried to relax into him, hoping the softness of her body and the security of her arms would help ease his fears. "You're right. I don't know that for sure. But Sam and the Doctor have assured us that the area has been healed. You have no more chance of having a stroke than I have." She smiled into his shoulder blade. "And while I'm no spring chicken, I'm feeling rather healthy these days."

She felt him draw in a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I know it doesn't make sense, Kathryn, but… I'm afraid. I've wanted you… for over seven years. And now, I…" He moved a hand up to his face, and she knew that he was crying.

And so was she, her tears making wet spots on the back of his t-shirt. "It's all right, Chakotay. We can take it slow." As she spoke, her hands moved again, down to the edge of his t-shirt, and then back up underneath it, fingers warm and soft on his skin – stomach, chest, grazing lightly over his nipples.

This time she heard him draw in a deep breath.

"Please… let me touch you," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

He held the breath, then released it, and she felt some of the tension dissipate, as she continued to caress his chest and stomach. And she sighed against him. It wasn't the most comfortable position, standing in the kitchen, pressed against the counter with untoasted bread spread out before them.

But she wouldn't dream of moving away. In that moment, with this man, there was nowhere she'd rather be.

~vVv~

The touching didn't lead to anything but more touching – and all above the waistline of his sweatpants. She'd promised to take it slow, and she would. She loved him too much to rush him. And, as they pulled away from each other, as he turned and gave her a gentle kiss on the lips, then turned back to finish toasting the bread, she couldn't help but smile at the irony – he'd waited for her for over seven years; she could wait for him.

She set the table while he finished up with the toast, finding orange marmalade and strawberry jam in the small refrigerator that she'd insisted on installing – a silly affectation – who needed an old-fashioned refrigerator when you had a replicator? But she liked the simplicity of it – liked having those few items that she bought at the local market close at hand. Of course, her morning coffee was another matter. Why should she take precious minutes to brew a cup of coffee when the replicator delivered it immediately, hot and black, just the way she liked it? And she'd already programmed in Chakotay's preference, with cream and two sugars.

She placed both cups on the tabletop, then watched as he stacked several pieces of toast on two plates. She took them and set them next to the cups and then sank into a chair; he sat down across from her.

"I should stay here today," she said, as she picked up a knife and started to spread the marmalade over her toast.

Chakotay, who was doing the same with the strawberry jam, shook his head. "You need to go into work. Your meeting with the Federation Council is tomorrow. Besides, Taryn's coming this morning, and Scott's expecting me back at Starfleet Medical at 1400 hours this afternoon. He's arranged another site-to-site transport."

That's how they'd returned the day before, and how he'd travel back and forth for the next week at least. Eventually, he was sure, Taryn would have him walking to the public transport station on the corner, but, for now, his travel arrangements had been made for him. He didn't need Kathryn to stay and babysit. And despite what the Doctor had said, he didn't want any "at-home care." He could take care of himself.

"But what about in between? I can come home for lunch."

Chakotay took a bite of his toast, munched on it thoughtfully. It was tempting, but he knew how much work she needed to get done by tomorrow, knew how much time she'd already spent with him in the past few days, and knew how often she'd been in contact with Jack back in her office. She was juggling too much as it was – she didn't need to take the time to come home in the middle of the day just to keep him company.

"Kathryn, go to the office, get some work done, then come home for dinner – just like we did last week. That schedule worked just fine."

"But Beth and the other nurses were there during the day. The Doctor mentioned something about at-home care. I think I need to arrange that."

She started to get up and head toward the communications console, but Chakotay reached out and laid a hand on her arm, solid and heavy, keeping her in her place at the table. "He said I _may_ need at-home care," he emphasized the 'may,' "but I don't. Between meeting with Taryn and then Scott, I won't be alone that long. I can fix myself some lunch, read a little, and then transport directly to rehab. I promise… I'll be fine."

Her mouth set into a hard line, almost as hard as his. He could be so damn stubborn. But so could she. And one of them would have to give a little if they hoped to make this work.

She covered his hand with hers, rubbed gently at his fingers. "You're sure?"

"I'm positive."

"You'll call me if you need anything?"

"I'll wear my commbadge."

She ran her tongue along her lower lip. "Even if you're just lonely, you'll call?"

He sighed. "Kathryn, I have two therapy sessions today. When am I going to have time to be lonely?"

"But if you are…"

He leaned over and touched her cheek, his thumb wiping at a dab of marmalade in the corner of her mouth. "If I get lonely, I'll call." And he brought his thumb to his lips, licked at the sweetness, then kissed her.

~vVv~


	34. Chapter 34

At the moment, he wished he was lonely.

Taryn had arrived and insisted that he take a bath.

He'd resisted.

Kathryn had a perfectly good separate shower stall that had already been fitted with handrails and a shower bench just for him. While a bath might have been a nice luxury, a shower would suffice.

But not for Taryn.

"It's not a matter of preference or convenience," she asserted. "It's about doing things that you normally do."

"I normally take a shower," Chakotay replied.

And she didn't miss a beat. "Then let me rephrase. It's about doing things in general."

He grimaced slightly. "Well, with that logic you might have me do anything."

And she smiled. "That's the idea – regaining the ability to do anything you want to do."

"But I don't want to take a bath," he shot back.

And Taryn laughed from her position perched on the edge of the bathroom counter. "You sound like a tired four-year-old. Now, hold on to that handrail, lean over, adjust the water temperature, set it for fill, and get undressed."

"With you sitting there?"

She shook her head. "I've already seen your naked ass, Chakotay, but if you're going to be modest, you can keep your shorts on. I'm not leaving. Sitting on a shower bench is one thing; lowering yourself into a tub is another. Kathryn will give me hell if you fall and crack your head open – again."

He sighed, trying to remember what it was like to have secrets and freewill as he followed Taryn's directions. He turned toward the bathtub, propped his cane against the wall, and grasped the handrail with his right hand. Leaning over, he adjusted the bath controls, allowing the warm water to flow into the tub. Once it started, he looked around, trying to decide the best way to get undressed without falling on his face.

"Sit on the edge," Taryn said, reading his thoughts.

He reached over and took hold of the handrail with his left hand, letting go with his right, and carefully turned his body back around. Then he sank down onto the edge of the tub, right leg bending naturally, his braced left leg sliding out straight in front.

Across from him, Taryn nodded. "Good. Now you should be balanced enough to let go and get undressed."

He was. And he did, pulling his shirt off over his head and tossing it on the floor. Then he removed the brace that he'd put on over his sweats this morning and leaned it next to his cane. He found that he needed to hold on to the rail again in order to take off his pants, but he managed. That left him in a pair of navy blue boxers.

He glanced up at Taryn. "What the hell," he sighed, then pulled off the underwear. She was right. With all the times she'd made him dress and undress over the past few weeks, there wasn't much of him she hadn't already seen. Maybe it was just the fact that they were in Kathryn's bathroom that made it seem a little more personal than a Starfleet Medical facility. He felt open and exposed. Very exposed.

But she kept her eyes up, focusing only on his face.

"All right. You're going to need to use some upper body strength for this. You're going to turn to your right, so reach over for the railing on the opposite wall with your right hand."

He did as he was told.

"Now, lift your right leg over the edge and into the tub." He started moving. "That's it. Use your left hand to help lift the left leg in and turn at the same time. Now, hold onto the handrail with your right hand, brace your left on the edge of the tub, and just slide in. I think you've got it."

And he did. He felt the tension in his body immediately relax as he made contact with the warm water.

He looked up to find Taryn grinning at him. "Feels good, doesn't it?"

And he sighed, his own grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, lifting into a dimpled smile. "Damn good," he agreed.

"Okay. Now that you're in, I'll leave you on your own for a while." She placed a washcloth in his hand and indicated the soap holder on the side of the tub. "Be a good four-year-old and take a bath."

He frowned at her teasing. "A hot shower gets me just as clean."

"Yes, but now that you're home, there may be some advantages to taking a bath." She headed toward the door, stopped, and glanced back. "That tub looks big enough for two."

~vVv~

Getting out was a little trickier than getting in. While gravity helped ease him into the tub, pushing against it was more difficult fifteen minutes later when he was trying to stand up. Taryn was there to lend a hand, which quickly became two hands, an arm, and a shoulder before he was steady on his feet and stepping out onto dry land. He grabbed the handrail and lowered himself into a sitting position on the edge, accepted the towel she gave him, and dried off.

She brought his some clean clothes, and he got dressed while Taryn sat on the counter again.

"Let Kathryn help you in and out of the tub," she instructed. "At least for the next few weeks."

"I'm still a shower man," he insisted, pulling his boxers into place around his hips.

"Yes, but you can handle the shower already. And you know what they say – we only grow if we stretch ourselves."

He pushed his arms into the sleeves of his t-shirt, pulled it down over his head. "Who is 'they'?" he challenged.

And she smiled. "Therapists throughout the galaxy. It's our unofficial motto."

"And what's the official motto?" he grinned, reaching for his brace and fitting it around his leg.

"Get your butt in gear and do it," Taryn stated.

And he laughed, fastening the brace's straps. "Sounds like a motto we've used on _Voyager_ before."

"Sometimes it's a good one to live by."

And he nodded. "Sometimes you won't live if you don't."

~vVv~

An hour later, B'Elanna showed up on the doorstep.

"I thought I might join you for lunch," she announced, stepping into the entry hall.

"Perfect timing," Taryn said, moving toward the door. "I was just leaving."

"You're welcome to stay for lunch," Chakotay offered, glancing from Taryn to B'Elanna, "since apparently I'm having a party."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I've got another session at 1300 hours."

Chakotay grinned. "You mean you torture some other poor soul?"

"Let's just say that I've got some other butts that need to get in gear – but none as cute as yours," she added with a mischievous wink of her eye as she slipped out the door.

And Chakotay laughed and saw B'Elanna's eyebrows arch, her forehead wrinkling around her ridges. "What did you two do this morning?" she asked as she followed him further into the house.

"Take a bath," he threw back over his shoulder, tempted to turn and see the look on her face but too busy watching the floor as he maneuvered through the main living area to the kitchen, a step down and then another step up.

"Gee, does Kathryn know?" she teased.

"Only what I tell her," he returned. "But since you've been sent to spy on me, I'm sure you'll be reporting back to her. So you can tell her for me. Taryn and I are having an affair, and we'll be leaving at the end of the week on a trip to Risa."

She rolled her eyes as she leaned on a kitchen counter. "Your twisted sense of humor still isn't very funny." But she smiled nevertheless. "Besides, I wasn't sent to spy. I just happened to run into Kathryn at Headquarters, and she suggested that you might enjoy some company for lunch."

"She also suggested that I need at-home care, and she sent you instead. Since you've enrolled Miral in Starfleet daycare, maybe they'll accept me, too."

This time the teasing tone was gone, and B'Elanna noted a touch of bitterness in his words. But she was used to meeting him head to head.

"I doubt that. They accept infants and toddlers, but I think they draw the line at big babies."

She saw a subtle flash of anger in his eyes, but then it just as quickly collapsed as he sank into a chair at the table. "I'm sorry, B'Elanna," he sighed. "I just hate being treated like an invalid."

"An invalid?! Oh, come on, Chakotay, it's your first day out of Starfleet Medical. No one's treating you like an invalid." She sat down in the chair opposite him, slid her hand across the tabletop. "We just care about you and want to make sure you're all right."

And he relented, reaching out and taking her hand in his. "I know. I'm just…"

"A little oversensitive?" she suggested with a gentle smile.

And he nodded. "I'm still not used to being taken care of. It's usually the other way around."

And she wrapped her other hand around his, held their joined hands securely. "And through the years, you've done an excellent job. Let us return the favor. Kathryn and I know you can take care of yourself, but… I'd sort of like to play big sister for a while."

He sat back in his chair. "Really?"

She smiled. "Really."

He still wasn't very happy about the situation, wanting to have some real independence, if only for a few hours. But he understood their concern. If it were the other way around, he'd be doing the same thing.

And so he gave in. "In that case, you can make lunch. I'd like the crusts cut of my peanut butter and jelly sandwich."

And she laughed. "No problem. That's just the way Tom likes them."

~vVv~

He went to bed before she did.

A simple "I think I'll turn in" as he started up the stairs, his left hand gripping the railing while his right leaned heavily on his cane.

She looked up from her desk where she'd been going over last minute notes and reports to see him ascending the steps slowly, the lines on his face etched deeply around his eyes and mouth.

He was exhausted.

"I'll join you," she said, reaching to turn off the computer.

"No." His voice stopped her. "Finish your work. You have a big day tomorrow." He gave her a tired smile. "I'm fine."

"Let me help you get ready for bed," she offered.

And he shook his head as he reached the top of the stairs, hesitating for a moment, resting after the third step. "That was last night. Tonight… I'm on my own. Remember – no coddling."

And she nodded. She had promised. And as much as she wanted to be there for him, she had to give him this time and space – especially after the "lunch incident."

She recalled the look on his face when she'd come in the front door earlier in the evening – not hostility, but open accusation.

"_You sent B'Elanna to babysit me." His voice was low and even – not angry or upset, but not pleased either. _

_Kathryn sighed and dropped her bag in the chair by the door. "It wasn't babysitting, Chakotay. I ran into her at Headquarters and suggested that she might want to have lunch with you. Didn't you enjoy the visit?"_

"_Whether I enjoyed it or not isn't the point. You sent her to keep watch, and I don't need watching."_

"_I know that." She stepped down into the living room and over to the sofa. "But you were going to be alone for lunch, and I thought you might like the company." She sat down, staring over at him sitting in the side chair._

"_I would have been just fine on my own. After therapy this afternoon, I managed a whole hour without falling or getting lost."_

"_It's not that big of a house." She exhaled a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Chakotay. I shouldn't have asked B'Elanna to come over."_

_The expression on his face softened. He couldn't fault her for caring. "It's all right. We actually had a nice lunch. She replicates a pretty good peanut butter and jelly sandwich – crusts cut off."_

"_She told me."_

_His eyes narrowed. "I knew she'd report back."_

_Kathryn smiled, relieved that he wasn't mad. "She told me something about you and Taryn taking a bath."_

"_I took the bath; she just coached from the sidelines." He gave her a dimpled grin. "She said that you should help me in out of the tub for the next few weeks."_

_Kathryn leaned over and touched her hand to his knee. "I'd be happy to help you after dinner tonight." Her fingers moved further up his thigh._

_And he reached down and caught her hand in his. "Tempting offer… but I've already taken a shower."_

"_By yourself?!"_

"_Kathryn… I can take a shower on my own."_

_She sighed. "Of course, you can. I just…" She tightened her hand around his. "Just… save the baths for me."_

_He lifted her hand and kissed it. "Sounds like a plan."_

But it hadn't been part of their plan for the night. They'd eaten an early dinner and then Kathryn had worked on her presentation while Chakotay read a book.

And now, he was going to bed.

Without her.

And she would let him.

"I'll be up in a little while."

He nodded, smiled, disappeared down the hall.

Fifteen minutes later, she turned off the computer and made her way to the bedroom, stopped at the half-open door. In the dim light, she could see the outline of his body under the covers, lying on his back, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath.

_To bed without her, and even to sleep,_ she thought as she moved quietly around the room, changing into her nightgown, going to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and then her hair. He was here, with her, and she realized that her bedtime routine hadn't really changed.

A few minutes later, she slipped in beside him, and he opened his eyes.

"I didn't mean to wake you," she whispered, reaching over, placing her hand against his chest, fingers gently rubbing across his heart, feeling the steady beat.

"You didn't. I wasn't asleep."

She pressed closer, her head resting against his shoulder. "Were you waiting up for me?" she breathed, her hand moving lower across his stomach.

And just as he had this morning, she felt him tense, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he began to tremble. And not from desire.

He closed his hand around hers, stopped its downward motion. He didn't turn to look at her, just stared at the ceiling.

"I'll… talk to the Doctor tomorrow. Maybe make an appointment to see Paul." The tremble was in his voice as well, and his breathing was uneven.

At least he was willing to talk to someone.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

He shook his head. And in the light from the window, she could see tears reflected on his cheeks. She wanted to touch them, wipe them away with her fingers. But she didn't. Her hand was still caught in his, and he wasn't letting go.

She supposed that was a good sign.

~vVv~


	35. Chapter 35

Kathryn left early the next morning. She was going to meet Jack at a coffee bar down near the Presidio before they had to report to the Federation Council chambers.

"He knows what will wake me up and put me in top form," she laughed as she gathered her various notes and padds. She looked across the room to where Chakotay leaned in the kitchen doorway. "You'll be fine until Taryn gets here." It wasn't actually a question, but Chakotay still heard the underlying concern.

And so he responded to her statement. "I'll be just fine." He took another sip from the teacup he held. "I just hope Taryn doesn't make me take another bath."

Kathryn crossed the room, her hands filled with padds, and stopped beside him. "She'd better not. That's still in our plans." She leaned against his chest, turned her face up to his, and kissed him gently on the lips. He tasted of tea and toast. Her eyes searched his for a moment. "You'll tell the Doctor hello for me."

And he smiled softly. She wasn't going to remind him of his promise, not in so many words, but she wouldn't let him forget it. "I thought I'd stop by and see him after therapy this afternoon."

And she kissed him again, lips lingering against his, soft pressure and momentary desire before she drew back. "I love you," she murmured, breathing in the scent of him, closing her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder for a few seconds.

He leaned his face into her hair, kissed the fine strands. "I love you."

And then she straightened and pulled herself back into captain mode. "I'll see you at dinner. Maybe we can go out. There's a little restaurant on the corner. Greek food."

He nodded. "Sounds great." He squeezed her arm. "Good luck with the presentation."

"As long as Jack is there, we'll be fine." And with one last kiss to his cheek, she was out the door.

And he sighed.

~vVv~

The coffee bar was packed, but she managed to find Jack among the crowd. His red hair helped.

She sidled in next to him and was pleased to see a steaming cup of coffee waiting for her. "You're still bucking for that raise, aren't you?" She cast him a knowing glance as she cradled the cup in both hands and brought it to her lips, inhaling deeply before taking a sip.

"Starfleet decides my salary, not individual officers. Of course, you could put in a good word," he suggested, shuffling several padds across the table.

"Oh, I've already done that," Kathryn assured, setting her cup down and picking up one of the padds. "Are these the revisions?"

Jack looked over at the padd she held. "Yes, those are the latest changes."

She studied the information. "It looks good. We might just make it through this meeting."

He smiled. "We'll be fine. It's sitting through all those other presentations that I'm worried about."

Kathryn nodded in agreement. The only thing worse than presenting to the Federation Council was watching and listening as the Federation Council members presented to them.

~vVv~

Taryn didn't make him take another bath.

But after climbing the steps to Kathryn's townhome a thousand times, he almost wished she had.

"It's not a thousand times," she argued when he complained rather vehemently. "And you'll thank me in a few months when you're running up and down these."

He stopped and leaned against the iron railing, raised an eyebrow at her. "Running?" For some reason, he hadn't envisioned himself ever running again. Walking, yes. Even walking without the cane. But to have enough strength and control to run?

"Why not running? You ran before the stroke. I've seen your running shoes. They look well-used."

They had been. Especially now that he was back on Earth. He liked to wake up early and take a run down by the bay, watch the sun glinting like tiny diamonds on the choppy waves, the Golden Gate Bridge glowing in the morning light. And then he'd run along the paths, around the Presidio, and through the Academy, before heading home, taking a quick shower, and going to work.

It was something he hadn't thought he'd experience again.

"You're walking with a cane now. In a few weeks, you won't need it. Before you know it, you'll be running." She pointed to the top of the steps. "But right now, get up there, walk back down, and then do it again."

~vVv~

After his session with Taryn, he had some lunch, and then called for a site-to-site transport to Starfleet Medical, where he spent a few hours climbing more stairs and lifting weights. Scott had introduced him to the punching bag, and a half hour on that had helped release a little of his pent-up tension.

But it wouldn't fix the real problem.

And when his physical therapy session was over, he took the lift to the eleventh floor, found himself outside the Doctor's office.

A step away, and he hesitated.

Promises made in the dark looked different in the light of day.

He could barely talk to Kathryn about this, how could he talk to someone else? Even a well-meaning holographic doctor.

And so, instead of reaching out and activating the chime, he stepped back, returned to the lift, went down to the lobby, and called for a site-to-site transport.

He went back to Kathryn's, and he knew he was running away.

~vVv~

The meeting had started at 0900. They were served a light lunch three hours later, and, by 1400 hours, Kathryn finally took the floor. The presentation went well – actually better than she expected. The council members were interested in all the finer points of the negotiations, and their preliminary recommendations matched hers exactly. The discussion lasted long into the afternoon, but, by 1730, she and Jack were making their way back to the nearest transporter station.

"I couldn't have done it without you," she said, wrapping an arm around Jack's shoulder and leaning into him.

He laughed. "You were the one who went to Vulcan. I just helped organize the notes."

"And put them into something that actually made sense," she smiled, patting his back.

"That's the nice thing about teamwork," he gave in.

"Then I'm glad you're on my team," she agreed. "And I think our little team deserves a day off, so don't you dare come into the office tomorrow. I don't want to see you until next Monday. You and Sally should go somewhere, have a nice long weekend."

"Only if you and Chakotay do the same."

And she nodded, wondering how his day had gone. "I'm planning on it," she said quietly.

~vVv~

The sun was setting as Kathryn climbed the steps and let herself into the front door, but it was still light outside. So she was surprised to find the front entry hall and living room shrouded in semi-darkness. As she moved further into the house, she realized that the drapery was drawn across the windows, shutting out what was promising to be a spectacular sunset. She stepped over to the window, started to pull back the drapes, and was stopped by his voice.

"Leave them closed."

She turned. She hadn't seen him in the chair by the sofa, but she saw him now, slouched low, legs straight out, a glass in his right hand and what looked to be a half-empty bottle of scotch in his left. She drew in an almost audible gasp; this was unexpected.

Chakotay drank, but not a lot. He liked Antarian cider, and an occasional beer, especially if he were playing pool or eating pizza, and she knew that he would drink scotch every now and then. In fact, that's why she had the bottle in the first place. He'd brought it over one night and stuck it in her liquor cabinet. It had been unopened, and now it looked halfway gone – not a good sign.

She moved over to the sofa, sat down across from him, watched as he lifted the glass to his lips and took a long drink. She could tell by the aroma that it was straight scotch, not even mixed with soda. She pressed her lips together for a few moments, and then asked, "Did you talk to the Doctor?"

Chakotay gave a half-laugh, sharp in the silence of the room. "Didn't even go in. Made it to the eleventh floor…" He took another drink, let the liquid slip over his tongue, roll warmly down the back of his throat. The glass was almost empty and he'd lost count of how many times he'd tipped up the bottle and filled it already. Enough times that he felt the burn in his chest and the twinge behind his ears that he got when he'd probably drunk too much. Hell, there was no probably – he was drunk, damn surprised he wasn't slurring his words already. He wondered fleetingly for a moment if Kathryn had ever seen him like this. All those years on _Voyager_ they'd drunk together, but if he got drunk, it was usually on his own. But now, he didn't have much chance of being alone long enough to get drunk by himself.

"I couldn't do it," he rasped, his voice sounding dry, so he took another drink. Then he heaved an exhausted sigh. "Can't make love to you – damn well can't talk about it. Not even to my doctor. I just…" He studied the glass in his hand, eying the last bit of scotch before swallowing it. "I just can't." And he filled the glass again.

Kathryn sat very still, watching him start on another glassful. She'd never seen him like this, wasn't sure what to say or do. And so she was silent for several minutes while he continued to drink. She ached for him, but there was something else, something that she didn't want to feel but couldn't deny.

She was angry.

For two weeks, she'd been at his side, willing to be there for him. All he had to do was talk to her, and instead, he'd come home to a bottle of scotch.

"I think I should leave the two of you alone," she said quietly, indicating the bottle with a glance of her eyes. And she got up, headed toward the door, stopped in the entry hall. "I'm going to the Greek restaurant on the corner. I'll be home later. Don't… don't wait up."

And the door closed behind her, as quiet as her voice, somehow even angrier than a slam.

And Chakotay let her go.

~vVv~


	36. Chapter 36

The last thing on her mind was food, but she found herself at the corner restaurant all the same. Athenos, the owner, had already set a cup of strong black coffee in front of her and quietly walked away. He could probably tell that she was upset. Although she wasn't crying now, she had been. From the moment she closed the door behind her, on the front steps, the tears had hit her hard and fast, a tightness in her chest almost doubling her over as her hand had gripped the iron railing.

She hadn't expected this, hadn't thought of all the possible ways he might react. And even if she had, she wouldn't have envisioned this – sitting in a dark room, getting drunk, bitter thoughts and words – running away from the problem instead of facing it head on. That wasn't like Chakotay. All those years on _Voyager_, she'd never seen him back down from a difficult situation, never seen him turn away and ignore it. And to her knowledge, he'd never tried to find the answer in the bottom of a bottle. Oh, she'd seen him go quiet before, seen him ruminate on something, sometimes for days at a time, but he always came back to it; he never let it beat him. And, often, he came to her. She remembered his time with the Vori, how he'd struggled with his memories, his hatred of the Kradin – how he'd eventually opened up to her about it after dinner in her quarters, talking long into the night about what he'd experienced, what he'd seen and felt – what he had trouble forgetting when he closed his eyes. Kathryn smiled even as she felt fresh tears fill her eyes – he'd fallen asleep on her sofa that night, his head on her shoulder. And in the morning he'd been all right; her angry warrior had faced another battle and won.

But he was losing now. And she'd left him to face this battle alone.

She gasped in a breath and rubbed a hand over her cheeks, wiped at the tears. So this was what they were doing now, both of them – running away, trying to find solace in a glass of scotch and a cup of black coffee. And she felt her anger slip away, her love for him rushing back in, filling the crevices and hollows left in the wake. And another smile – she could never stay angry with him for long.

She pushed her coffee cup to the center of the table and stood up, silently cursing herself for leaving him. He was scared, and hurting – and so was she. But, damn it, they'd do it together she decided as she left the restaurant and headed home.

~vVv~

There was still a pink and orange glow at the edges of the bay, but the sun had already set, and the house was even darker when she walked through the front door, the drapes still drawn, the lights off. She touched the panel in the entry hall and manually raised the illumination, her eyes going immediately to the chair where he'd been sitting.

It was empty.

She scanned the room and found him, sitting on the stairs that led to the bedroom, slumped against the railing.

"Chakotay?" She crossed over to him quickly, knelt beside him.

His head was bent forward onto his chest, his shoulders heaving with each ragged breath. She touched her fingers to his chin, raised his head. "Oh, Chakotay," she breathed when she saw the blood smeared across his forehead, dripping onto his cheek. A jagged gash edged the corner of his tattoo above his left eye.

He swallowed, eyes squinting, then closing against the light. "Thought… you left," he managed, his voice still thick.

"I came back," she stated the obvious as she gently ran her fingers over his forehead.

He winced and pulled away; the cut looked deep, and she didn't have a dermal regenerator.

She tapped her commbadge and opened a link. "Captain Janeway to the Doctor, Starfleet Medical," she intoned, and waited a few seconds.

"I'm here, Captain." His voice seemed loud in the stillness of the room, Chakotay's heavy breathing the only other sound.

"Doctor, I have…" she sighed, one hand gently caressing Chakotay's cheek, while the other pressed against the open wound, the blood still flowing through her fingers. "I have a medical emergency. Could you make a house call? We need a dermal regenerator and a hypospray."

A few moments later, he materialized at the foot of the stairs, a medical kit in his hand. He looked up to where Kathryn sat next to Chakotay, his eyes still closed.

The Doctor emitted a small, exasperated sigh and went to work. "I would ask you to state the nature of the medical emergency, but it seems obvious." His eyes focused on the top step, and for the first time Kathryn noticed the broken scotch bottle. "I assume climbing stairs while holding a bottle in one hand and a cane in the other proved a little too much to handle, Commander." He had pushed Kathryn's hands back and was now holding Chakotay's jaw firmly between his fingers. With his other hand, he used a sterile pad to wipe the blood away, and then he took out the regenerator. "Next time, don't try to take it to bed with you."

Chakotay's eyes creased open for a moment and he stared at the Doctor, but he didn't say anything. And his eyes slipped shut again.

A few moments later, the cut was closed, and the Doctor replaced the instrument in his kit, fished out a hypospray, and pressed it to Chakotay's neck. "For the hangover you'll no doubt have in the morning," he stated, then put it back into the kit as well.

Kathryn had been silent throughout the Doctor's administrations, holding her hand on Chakotay's shoulder, feeling the uneven breaths, the deep shudders that ran through his body.

"I suggest we get him up to bed. Let him… sleep it off, as they say," the Doctor glanced toward Kathryn, but then back to Chakotay when the man's eyes opened again. And the Doctor's voice softened this time as he spoke to him. "We'll talk in the morning, Commander," he promised, gruffness replaced with a surprisingly gentler bedside manner. "You need rest right now."

Together, he and Kathryn managed to pull Chakotay to his feet, drape his arms around their shoulders, and walk him down the hall to the bedroom. He leaned most of his weight on the Doctor, and when they reached the bed, he held onto him as Kathryn quickly pulled back the blankets and allowed the Doctor to lower Chakotay onto the mattress. He lay back, closed his eyes again, and let Kathryn undress him. The Doctor left her to the task, and went back downstairs.

By the time Kathryn had removed his pants and his brace, Chakotay was asleep, so she left him in his boxers and t-shirt and pulled the blankets up over him. She sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his breathing easier now. Drops of blood still stained his cheek, and she thought about getting a wet washcloth and bathing his face, but decided against it, not wanting to wake him. Instead, she leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead and then went to find the Doctor.

He was in the living room, and, as she descended the stairs, she saw that the broken bottle had been picked up and Chakotay's cane was hooked over the railing. The Doctor had opened the drapes and was standing next to the window, looking out onto the lights that encircled the bay. Kathryn joined him, and they stood in silence for a few moments.

And then she spoke. "Thank you," she said softly, glancing over at him, his face impassive.

"Just doing my job," he returned matter-of-factly.

Kathryn smiled slightly. "We're not on _Voyager_ anymore," she reminded.

And he drew in a deep breath, let it out. "We'll always be on _Voyager_."

She felt his hand brush against hers, fingers closing around her hand securely for a few seconds before letting go. And she understood. Their seven years together had been a journey – one that didn't necessarily end just because they were home.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked.

And she sighed. "We're just… having some difficulty…adjusting to home life."

"I see." He was quiet for a while, and then he asked, "Kathryn, have you and Chakotay consummated your relationship?"

She drew in a sharp breath, not sure whether to laugh or pretend to be offended, settling on a soft smile, a shake of her head, and the truth instead. "No," she released another deep sigh, "not yet."

He nodded. "I thought that might be the problem. It's not uncommon for stroke patients to be hesitant about having sex. That's why Sam and I wanted to reassure you the other day – he's all right. He's not going to have another stroke when you make love."

"I think he knows that; he's just having trouble believing it right now. And I don't know how to help him. He was going to talk to you this afternoon, but when I came home I found him sitting here with that bottle of scotch. He said that… he could barely talk to me about it, how was he supposed talk to someone else – even his doctor?"

"He's always been a very proud, private man," the Doctor observed, turning and leaning against the window, facing Kathryn.

"Damn stubborn," she murmured.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Like someone else I know. If two people ever deserved each other…" He let his words trail off.

And she sighed in agreement, flexing her shoulders, running her hand across the back of her neck, looking away. She felt the Doctor touch her arm.

"These weren't the most ideal conditions under which to start a relationship. But he loves you so much, Kathryn. And he's wanted you for so long." She shifted her gaze back to him. "He's a very… passionate man. I can't think of anything that would drive him to drink except for the fear of losing you."

She shook her head. "That won't ever happen. Surely he knows that."

"I'm sure he does. But right now…"

"He's afraid," she finished his thought, her voice beginning to shake. "I don't blame him. I can't imagine how he felt when he had the stroke – how frightened and alone - wondering if… if he was going to die there, on the floor of his office at Starfleet Academy." She ran her hands down over her face, eyes wet again with tears. "We've been waiting to be here, to be home, together. There were a few times at the hospital when we almost… well, we almost… but we didn't. He wasn't afraid then."

"Because he knew you wouldn't – not there, not under those… parameters. But the parameters are gone now." He wrapped his hand more firmly around her upper arm. "I know you think that he's afraid of having another stroke, and I think that's partly true, but… For a man who's experienced a stroke, there can be other fears as well."

A look hardened in her eyes – firm determination. "He knows how much I love him."

The Doctor nodded. "He does. But for the past two weeks, you've been a caregiver, not a lover. He needs time to see you in a different light – and for you to see him differently, too. When he looks in the mirror, he's not the same man he was three weeks ago."

Kathryn felt her throat tighten as the tears in her eyes spilled over onto her cheeks. "He'll always be the man I love."

The Doctor smiled. "Tell him that. And keep telling him that." He placed his other hand on her shoulder, drew her into a strong embrace, and held her while she cried.

~vVv~


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's Note:** Thanks again for all the reviews! I appreciate the comments and insights. I'm having a great time writing this story, and it's nice to be able to share it. JT

Long minutes later, she pulled away from his arms, brushing at the strands of hair that clung to her face, her cheeks still wet and hot from crying. She sniffled, ran a hand across her eyes and over her nose. "I'm sorry," she murmured, frowning slightly.

The Doctor smiled. "No need to be sorry. A healthy release of emotions is good for you. You may still be the captain, but you don't always have to be in control – with me or with Chakotay."

She shook her head, negating his words. "The last thing I need to do is fall apart with him," she resisted.

"Nonsense!" he scoffed. "It might be the best thing you could do. Right now, he's wrestling with fears and emotions – maybe he needs to see that you are, too. Neither of you has to be strong all the time."

Kathryn gave a hesitant smile. "There's no danger of that happening. I haven't felt very strong through any of this."

"But you have been," he assured. "Kathryn Janeway at her weakest is someone else on her strongest day."

She reached up and touched her hand to his cheek, cupping it gently. "Thank you," she said softly. As he started to respond, she continued. "And don't say you were just doing your job. Holding an emotionally distraught woman isn't part of the Emergency Medical Hologram's original programming."

"Yes, well," he glanced down, then back up, his eyes catching with hers, "according to Lieutenant Torres, I've grown well past my original parameters."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Haven't we all?" she whispered in his ear. And she felt him smile.

"It's late, Kathryn. You should get some rest."

With a soft sigh, she stepped back. "You're right."

"I'll be back in the morning – around 0800?"

She shook her head. "We'll be fine. You don't need to-"

He held up a hand to stop her words. "I promised Chakotay, remember? I'd like to talk with him some more about what he's feeling." He went over to the desk where he'd left his medical kit and took out a hypospray, brought it back to her. "He may need it in the morning," he explained.

Kathryn took the instrument. "I'm sure he'll appreciate it."

"You might have to remind him that I was here." The Doctor arched his eyebrows. "I'm not sure how much of tonight he's going to remember."

"Not a lot, I hope," she returned.

"Then you tell him," the Doctor said, the tone of his voice insistent. At the look of surprise on her face, he continued. "He needs to remember. He needs to open up and discuss his fears. If you don't make him talk about this, then his plan will have worked – losing himself in a bottle of scotch. Don't let him run, Kathryn."

She pressed her lips together and nodded her head. He was right; she and Chakotay had a lot to talk about in the morning. She wasn't going to lose him – not ever again.

The Doctor retrieved his medical kit, tapped his commbadge, and called for a site-to-site transport. "Get some sleep," he reminded as he dematerialized a moment later.

And then he was gone.

Kathryn sighed and headed up the stairs. Sleep did sound like a good plan; she only hoped she could follow through. She took Chakotay's cane from the railing and went down the hall to the bedroom.

He was rolled over on his side, snoring softly, and she was glad that he was able to sleep. Of course, he'd had some help – several glassfuls of help.

She propped his cane next to his brace, then got ready for bed – the same motions as last night: nightgown, bathroom, brushing teeth, brushing hair. But, unlike last night, she realized that her routine was indeed very different. He was here with her. And that was the most important difference of all.

A few minutes later, she lowered the lights and slipped under the covers, pressing herself close to his back. His body felt warmer than usual, and he still smelled of scotch – smoky with a musty hint of fruit and licorice. She nuzzled her face close to his neck, breathed him in. And Chakotay – that indefinable scent that was his – fresh air and wind, pine and wood smoke. He'd always smelled like New Earth to her – sense memory, she supposed.

She carefully wrapped her arms around him, hands smoothing over his chest, resting lightly on his stomach. And with her cheek to his shoulder blade, she closed her eyes and slept.

~vVv~

The bed moved as he sat up, and she opened her eyes, instantly awake and reaching for him as he turned and pulled his legs over the edge and onto the floor. In the pale light reflected from the window, she could see him fumbling for his cane, and he gained his feet before her hand could make contact with his back. He managed two steps and then he fell, going down on his hands and knees, shoulders arching as he lost the meager contents of his stomach.

Kathryn was beside him immediately, her arms encircling him, holding even as he strained to pull away, her voice soothing in contrast to the harsh sounds of his retching.

"Shh, it's all right."

She felt him convulse under her hands, his head turning away as he heaved again, mostly liquid as she knew he hadn't consumed any dinner. She could feel him trembling, heat radiating through the thinness of his t-shirt. She draped her body half over his, smoothed one hand over his neck, the other holding his forehead. He arched again.

"I've got you, Chakotay," she whispered, her mouth to his ear, her cheek pressed to the back of his head.

He shuddered, and she held him firmly as his convulsions subsided. He maintained his position on hands and knees, but he leaned into her for support, hips and thighs against her chest and stomach, his body still trembling in her arms. He gasped for his next breath, and she felt the muscles along his back clench as he tried to control his physical reactions – another arching of his shoulders, but nothing came up – just dry heaves that went on for several long moments. She strengthened her hold on him, not letting go even when he tried to pull away, movements weak and uncoordinated.

Finally, his breathing grew steadier, more even, and his body relaxed. She wrapped one arm around his shoulders and held onto his arm as he tried to stand up, leaning almost all of his weight onto her, his body heavy in her arms. He managed to get to his feet, and with her help, he limped back to the bed and sagged onto it, lying back against the pillows as she lifted his legs onto the mattress, pulling the covers over him as he began to shiver, perspiration beading across his forehead. He turned his face away, drawing in each breath through his mouth, still fighting the nausea.

She took the hypospray from the bedside table and pressed it to his neck, then left him for a few seconds, going into the bathroom and returning with a cup of water and a warm wet washcloth. Setting the cup on the bedside table, she proceeded to bathe his cheeks and forehead, wiping away the dried blood as she had wanted to do earlier in the evening. He turned his head back, instinctively moving into the warm cloth, gazing at her from underneath half-closed eyelids, his expression still edged with pain and regret.

"Th-thirsty," he rasped, his tongue licking over dry lips.

She took the cup of water, and, with one hand supporting his neck, she lifted his head and held the cup to his mouth. He sipped eagerly at it.

"Easy, not too much," she warned, knowing that even with the hypospray his stomach might still be queasy.

He sighed and sank into the pillows as she took the cup away, setting it back on the table.

"'m sorry," he murmured, his eyes opened wider now, searching hers.

And she set the cloth aside, ran her hand over his cheeks and forehead, tracing the lines of his tattoo, needing to feel his skin under her fingertips. "I'm sorry, too," she whispered, massaging gently at his temple.

"Wh-why?" He drew in another breath. "You didn't… get drunk… and fall down the stairs," he managed, a slight embarrassed smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

She pressed her lips together, started to look down, but didn't – she maintained eye contact and admitted, "I left you. And I… I promised that I would never do that." She felt sudden, hot tears flood her eyes.

"Don't…" Chakotay breathed, reaching up, touching her cheek, wiping at the tears that began to fall. "This… isn't your fault." The muscles of his face hardened. "It's mine." He sighed. "I don't know why… Hell, I don't even drink scotch that much."

Kathryn couldn't suppress a small grin and a slight roll of her eyes toward the floor near the bathroom. "I can tell." He sighed again. And she took hold of his right hand, squeezed it hard. "We're going to be all right, Chakotay. We just have to talk to each other, and not-"

"Run away?"

She nodded.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked back at her. "I'm scared, Kathryn. I love you so much, and if I can't…" He drew in another deep breath, let it out slowly. She could feel him starting to shake again, saw tears fill his eyes as well. "If I can't show you… If I can't make love to you, then I…"

"Shh." She touched her finger to his lips. "You've been home for two days. We don't have to rush anything." She trailed her finger up over his face, brushing at his tears now.

He covered her hand with his, held it close to his cheek. "I want you," he breathed.

"You have me," she sighed. "You've always had me." And she leaned over and pressed her lips to his.

~vVv~


	38. Chapter 38

The kiss, although fairly chaste, held promise, as did the hand that ran down over his chest and stomach to his hip. Chakotay shifted as Kathryn caressed the skin above the waistband of his boxers, but he didn't pull away or grow tense and begin to tremble as he had before. He pressed into her lips and then leaned back, almost breathless – not so much from the kiss but from the remnants of his hangover that still hovered at the edges despite the hypospray she'd injected into his neck.

She smiled and moved her hand up to his cheek, fingers rubbing softly over early morning stubble – he hadn't shaved in a few days. "It's still early," she whispered. "Why don't you sleep for a while longer? We're having a guest for breakfast at 0800."

He raised his eyebrows slightly.

"The Doctor," Kathryn clarified. "He wants to talk to us."

Chakotay ran a hand over his face and rubbed at his eyes. "I guess… it would be a good idea." He sighed. "A better idea than getting drunk."

"Or running away," she agreed, her hand falling to rest on his neck and shoulder.

Chakotay chuckled softly. "It's a wonder that either of us managed to get _Voyager_ home in one piece."

"Oh, I don't know. I still think we make a pretty good team." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, felt his fingers run through her hair.

"You're right," he breathed, then moved to sit up.

"I thought you were going to sleep for a while longer."

He shook his head and glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was 0720. "I think I need a shower before our breakfast guest arrives." He pulled at the front of his stained t-shirt.

Kathryn got up from the side of the bed, helped him push back the covers. "Could you use some help?" She knew he could shower on his own, but he didn't look too steady at the moment.

He nodded. "Unless you want to call Taryn," he teased.

She shook her head. "Oh, no, I was jealous enough yesterday. You're mine today."

And he grinned, liking the possessive tone of her words.

She helped him out of bed, and together they made their way into the bathroom, where Kathryn leaned against the counter as Chakotay stripped off his clothes – he tossed the t-shirt in the hamper, but, with his back to her, he let his boxers just drop to the floor.

And Kathryn sighed, enjoying the view. Over the past few weeks, she'd seen glimpses of him naked – chest, stomach, hip – but the long uninterrupted line of exposed skin from his neck, down his back, over shapely buttocks and strong thighs was… beautiful – she couldn't think of any other word to describe him, and she drew in a small gasp as he flexed the muscles of his back and looked over his shoulder at her. He was aware of her reaction, and he grinned again. "I thought you were going to help."

A small smile lifted the corners of her lips. "What can I do?"

"Lose the nightgown," he answered softly. "It'll get wet."

She drew in another quick breath. "Chakotay…are you sure?"

He nodded and carefully turned around; and she took in the sight of him – broad chest, slightly rounded stomach, slim hips… She sighed. He _was_ beautiful – all of him. But she could see that his left leg wasn't as toned, the muscles not as delineated as they were in his right leg, and he held his left arm down in front of his thigh, as if to hide that side. And she stepped over to him and took hold of his left hand, pulled it away, let her hand settle on his left hip. She leaned into him, pressed her cheek to his, whispered in his ear. "I like what I see."

She felt his hands on her shoulders, pushing the straps of her nightgown down over her upper arms, and then they moved to her sides as they pulled at the silk material; it slid off her body, pooled at their feet, joining his shorts on the floor.

He drank her in, the creamy softness of her breasts, the gentle curve of her hips… She was beautiful, and she was his.

She pressed into him, her breasts against his chest. And she felt him shudder. "A shower, Chakotay. That's all."

He nodded; he could handle a shower.

"Tonight we'll take a bath," she breathed, stepping back and taking his hand, leading him into the shower stall beside her.

He looked down, and, although there was no evidence of his desire, her words pulled at him and he felt a stirring within.

~vVv~

It was just a quick morning shower, not a long evening bath, but the intimacy was palpable. They bathed each other's bodies, hands and washcloths sliding over wet soapy skin with a touch of a lover, not a caregiver, learning the topography and committing it to memory – the hollow of his throat, the cleft between her breasts, the juncture of his thighs and torso, the slope of her buttocks, the backs of his knees, the soles of her feet – broad shoulders and rounded hips, solid calves and delicate ankles. Their hands explored every rise and plane, and Kathryn let Chakotay set the pace - pulling back when his breathing became heavy, slowing down with the quickening of his heart – every low moan and intake of breath filed away for further exploration.

Twenty minutes later, they were drying each other with warm towels, hands still roaming and touching lightly, laughing at the lingering awkwardness of hips and elbows and lovers who were not yet lovers but knew that they would be soon – given the time, and the trust, and the reassurance. Chakotay knotted his towel around his waist, and, while Kathryn dried her hair, he went over to the sink and brushed his teeth, something he'd wanted to do for the past half hour.

Then, wrapped safely in his terrycloth robe, he turned toward Kathryn, leaned forward, and kissed her – something they hadn't actually done while they were in the shower – but now, on dry land, his confidence secure, he held her close as his tongue explored the warm recess of her mouth, felt her tongue slip alongside his, slow and gentle and probing.

Long minutes passed and he pulled back, drew in a deep breath. "That was the best shower I've ever taken," he whispered, brushing a strand of damp hair behind her ear.

She nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, pressed her lips to warm skin, kissed him softly, and sighed. "I can't wait for the bath."

~vVv~

But they would have to. Ten minutes later, they were dressed and in the kitchen when the Doctor materialized in the doorway.

"Good morning," he greeted, looking extremely bright-eyed for 0800. Of course, he was a hologram, so one time was as good as another for him.

Kathryn, who was leaning against the kitchen counter, smiled at him over the rim of the coffee cup that she held beneath her chin, cradled in both hands as she inhaled the strong familiar aroma. She took a sip before returning his greeting. "Good morning," she replied, taking another sip and then setting the cup on the counter.

Chakotay was seated at the table, drinking a tall glass of cold water. Coffee hadn't been his first choice.

"A bit dehydrated, I see," the Doctor observed, setting his kit on the table and taking out a medical tricorder and scanner. He ran the scanner around Chakotay's head and over his shoulders and chest, taking in the readings as they flashed across the display. "Fortunately, you'll live," he stated. "How's the headache?"

Chakotay winced at his words, but admitted the truth. "Still hurts a little." He saw a look of concern flash across Kathryn's face.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she chided gently.

And the Doctor sighed as he removed a hypospray and pressed it to Chakotay's neck. "Self-punishment isn't necessary, Commander. After last night, I think you've punished yourself enough."

Chakotay glanced down at the top of the table, not meeting the Doctor's eyes. "About last night… Thanks. I… appreciate your help."

"I'm surprised you remember it," the Doctor said as he placed his medical instruments into the kit. He glanced over at Kathryn then back to Chakotay. "Do you remember, or did Kathryn tell you?"

Chakotay gave a half laugh and looked back up. "I remember… most of if." He touched his fingers to the skin above his left eyebrow. "It's not the first time you've closed a cut on my forehead."

"You're still hoping for that manly scar above your eye," the Doctor accused, then pursed his lips. "Only this time, you weren't sparring with a Terrellian." He sat down across from him and slid a padd over the table. "I brought you some reading material." He glanced at Kathryn as she joined them, sitting in the chair next to Chakotay. "You might want to read it as well," he added.

Chakotay picked up the padd, activating it with a press of his thumb. He skimmed over the initial information, and Kathryn saw a faint blush cross his cheeks. She leaned closer and read the padd over his shoulder: _Recovery after Stroke – Redefining Sexuality_. She felt her own cheeks grow suddenly warm.

"I think you'll find that article will have a lot of useful information," the Doctor offered, oblivious to their reactions. "There are sections on the importance of communication, alternate forms of pleasuring, helpful hints in the bedroom, and even an entire section devoted to alternative positions. Why, I found that part extremely informative myself." He glanced over at them. "Not that I need any help in that particular area," he assured, "but one never knows when that sort of information may be needed."

Kathryn coughed nervously, and Chakotay cleared his throat. "Yes, well, thank you… I'll read it…carefully."

The Doctor nodded. "And if you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them. There's no need to be ashamed. It's perfectly normal to be fearful of sex after a stroke. And I just want to assure you again that you will not have another stroke when you make love. Your blood pressure will increase, but not any more than it does when you climb a flight of stairs. Of course, climbing a flight of stairs isn't quite as pleasurable."

He smiled over at Kathryn, and she wasn't sure whether to feel embarrassed or simply laugh, so she attempted to remain neutral. He was only trying to be helpful, and his concern for them was genuine, even if his approach was somewhat indelicate.

"Thank you, Doctor," she managed with a straight face, not daring to look at Chakotay, afraid that she would start laughing uncontrollably if she did. "We appreciate… the reading material."

His smiled widened. "You're quite welcome. May I suggest you start with the section entitled _Getting to Know Each Other_?"

~vVv~


	39. Chapter 39

Her control wavered, and she made the mistake of looking at Chakotay, her cheeks growing hot at his dimpled grin. Her skin still tingled from their early morning shower; they'd already started getting to know each other.

The Doctor saw their exchanged glances and read between the lines. "Well, perhaps you can move on to the next section – _Planning for Intimacy_."

And Chakotay laughed. Not an amused chuckle, or a half hidden snicker, or even a nervous giggle. An all-out belly laugh that caught Kathryn by surprise – after all, this wasn't exactly a laughing matter. It was private, and personal, and required sensitivity and understanding, and… She glanced at the bemused expression on the Doctor's face and felt her own laughter bubble up inside. Before she knew it, she was doubled over, gasping for breath, as laughter-induced tears trailed down her cheeks.

Chakotay reached over and took hold of her hand, hoping the contact would help ground him, bring his laughter under control.

The Doctor looked on, slightly bewildered, yet pleased to see their shared amusement. "A good sense of humor is important in every relationship," he observed.

And Chakotay drew in a deep breath, tried to let it out slowly, while Kathryn did the same, wiping at her eyes, suppressing the urge to start laughing again.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, her apology aimed at the Doctor. "We really do appreciate your help. In fact," she squeezed Chakotay's hand, "we already have some… plans in mind."

The Doctor's face brightened, his self-satisfied smile returning. "That's excellent."

"But right now," Kathryn continued, "I think I'd better go check my messages." She got to her feet, still drawing in deep, steadying breaths.

Chakotay looked up at her, realizing her immediate plan – leaving him to talk to the Doctor alone. His hold on her hand tightened, but, still, she pulled away. Leaning over, she kissed his forehead. "Can I get you any breakfast before I go?"

He sighed and shook his head. He couldn't be angry with Kathryn; he knew he still needed to talk to someone other than her. And the Doctor was here, and Paul wasn't. "I'm fine," he answered, his stomach suddenly queasy at the thought of food – or maybe it was the conversation he was about to have. Either way, eating wasn't in his immediate plans.

She smiled, touched her hand to his cheek, and then left.

Chakotay stared across the table at the Doctor, then looked down, wrapped both his hands around the water glass, not sure how to start this conversation – not even sure if he could start it. How did you start a conversation about feelings of sexual inadequacy – even if it was a conversation with your doctor?

"You have nothing to worry about," the Doctor assured.

And Chakotay looked up at his statement, wishing it were that simple. Hearing the sentiment and believing it were diametrically opposed at the moment.

"There's nothing physically wrong with you," he continued.

Chakotay raised an eyebrow at him. "So you're saying it's all in my head?"

The Doctor nodded. "Yes… and no. The fear is in your mind, but it does manifest itself physically. Right now, you're not able to fully relax and allow your body to do what it naturally would do in a romantic situation."

"But this morning Kathryn and I…" He stopped himself, and then sighed. Ah, hell, if he were going to talk to the Doctor about this then he would just have to talk – he couldn't monitor every thought and word. He just hoped Kathryn would understand. "We took a shower together this morning. Believe me," he felt his cheeks blush, "I was… relaxed. Still… nothing."

"How long of a shower?" the Doctor inquired, not even batting an eye at the information.

Chakotay shifted in his chair; unlike the Doctor, he was clearly uncomfortable with analyzing his and Kathryn's shower, but he answered anyway. "About ten minutes."

And the Doctor shook his head. "Maybe enough time to allow for some mutual exploration, but not nearly enough time to set the proper mood."

_Mutual exploration… _Chakotay coughed and ran a hand over his eyes. He was quickly regretting his decision to talk with the Doctor and just as quickly resenting Kathryn's somewhat smug departure. Why did she get to disappear into the other room? But as he lowered his hand and looked over at the Doctor, he answered his own question. As much as she loved him, this wasn't her problem. It was his.

The Doctor tapped the padd that lay on the table between them. "Don't discount this article. Getting to know each other, planning for intimacy, open communication – all very important. You of all people know that anything worth having is worth working for."

Chakotay gave a half laugh. "When it comes to this relationship, I did more waiting than working all those years on _Voyager_."

"Perhaps. But the wait is over. Now comes the hard part."

And Chakotay laughed again, wondering if the Doctor's choice of words was intentional; he studied the hologram's face, and decided it wasn't. He released a long, heavy breath.

"So what do I do?"

"Give yourself time. Give Kathryn time. Enjoy each other. Continue to… explore. You're both good at that." He gave him a sincere smile.

And despite his embarrassment, Chakotay couldn't help but return the smile. Taking time to explore did sound nice.

"Don't place any expectations on yourself. Try not to worry about body image."

"Body image?" he queried nervously.

Again, the Doctor tapped the padd. "Read the section. Read it together. And then talk about it." He slid the padd closer to Chakotay. "She loves you. Very much. That's never going to change."

He nodded, picked up the padd and closed his hand around it. "I know."

"Then believe it."

~vVv~

"How did it go?" Kathryn asked ten minutes later after the Doctor had left. She stood in the kitchen doorway. He still sat at the table.

"All right. A little… embarrassing. But… he means well."

Kathryn nodded quickly. "He does. He cares about both of us." She licked her lips nervously. "I hope you don't mind that I told him… about us, about…"

Chakotay pursed his lips, a slight grin forming. "My little problem?"

Kathryn smiled teasingly. "Oh, I wouldn't describe it as little…"

And Chakotay laughed, then his expression grew serious. "I never thought we'd be doing this."

"What?" She moved over closer to the table, and he reached out, grabbed her hand, pulled her onto his lap. She settled into his arms, her hands on his shoulders.

"Learning to live with each other," Chakotay replied, brushing his hand over her cheek. "Sharing… so much."

Kathryn sighed, traced her fingers above his eyebrow, along the lines of his tattoo. "I can't imagine learning to live with anyone else," she whispered.

Chakotay lifted the padd from the table. "He wants us to read the section on body image together."

And Kathryn gazed into his eyes, didn't look away. "Do we need to read that one?"

She saw Chakotay swallow, felt him draw in a deep breath. "I think so," he murmured.

She smiled. "Then let's get started." And she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

~vVv~


	40. Chapter 40

The Doctor had arranged to give him a day off, contacting both Taryn and Scott to let them know that Chakotay would be spending his day with Kathryn.

"That's nice of him," Chakotay commented, settling on the sofa in the living room, padd in hand, "but that just means they'll work me twice as hard tomorrow."

"Is that twice as hard as you work yourself?" Kathryn asked, sitting down next to him, pulling her legs up under her, and leaning against his shoulder. He frowned slightly, pursing his lips, and giving her that familiar self-deprecating look. She leaned up and kissed him beneath the chin. "Let's just enjoy our day off," she suggested, reaching over and activating the padd with a touch of her finger.

"With a little light reading?" he sighed.

"Shh," she admonished, running her finger over the padd, looking for the right section. "Here it is – _Body Image and Self-Esteem._"

It wasn't a long section, but it addressed the basics: self-perception, altered expectations, fear of rejection, depression, loss of interest, performance issues, self-doubt, and limited motivation.

When she was finished reading, Kathryn dropped the padd on her lap, and looked up at Chakotay. His face was impassive, and she couldn't read his thoughts. She ran her hand along his chest. "I don't think all of those apply to you. Do they?"

He shook his head, lips pressed tightly together. "Not all."

A look of concern lit Kathryn's eyes. "Some?"

He nodded, his tongue licking along his lower lip. "I… I worry about… how you see me."

She ran her hand up to his neck, fingers rubbing gently over the skin below his ear. "I told you this morning. I like what I see. You believe that, don't you?"

"I want to," he murmured, looking away.

She touched her hand to his cheek, drew his gaze back to her. "Chakotay, your body hasn't changed that much. Your left side isn't as toned as your right, but… it'll get better."

He nodded. "I know. I'm just… I'm not a young man anymore, Kathryn, and now… I just feel older."

"We are older," she laughed softly. "Both of us. But you are still the most attractive man I know."

He smiled down at her. "And you're beautiful," he breathed, dipping his head and touching his lips to hers.

She pressed back, lips parting as his tongue slipped inside, intertwining with hers. Long minutes later, they pulled back, breathing heavily.

Kathryn sighed. "Well, I don't think we have to worry about loss of interest or limited motivation."

And he laughed, pulling her closer into his arms. He didn't mention any of the other topics on the list, but he was thinking about them, and trying not to worry.

~vVv~

They spent the day talking, and laughing, and reading, and confiding in each other more than they ever had. Kathryn copied the article to another padd so that they both could read at their own pace, each lingering over separate sections for differing amounts of time, and then coming back together to discuss what they'd read. It was an informative article, one that led them into conversations that they might not have attempted on their own. Chakotay found himself telling Kathryn things he'd never thought he would – doubts and fears and promises and certainties – parts of himself that were so much a part of her that sometimes, over the years, he wasn't sure where he stopped and she began. And Kathryn met each confession with one of her own, the love they had for each other at the center of every truth.

They ate a light lunch – pimento cheese sandwiches and chips – then took a long nap, both of them falling asleep on the sofa, his head in her lap, the padd resting atop his chest. He drifted off first, and she sat for a half hour just watching him sleep, lazily tracing the lines of his tattoo, until her eyes grew heavy and closed.

A few hours later, they stirred awake at the same time, and, by mutual agreement, decided to take that bath they'd been planning. Kathryn went ahead of him as he made his way up the stairs, and when he reached the bedroom, she was in the bathroom placing candles around the tub. He leaned in the doorway and watched.

"You're a hopeless romantic," he sighed, a dimpled smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

"Then that makes two of us," she countered, lighting each candle and inhaling deeply as the scent of vanilla and cinnamon filled the air. Then she activated the controls and warm water started filling the tub.

Chakotay's smile faded a bit and he glanced down at the floor, his next words quiet and hesitant. "What if… this doesn't work?"

Kathryn stepped over to him immediately, one hand touching his chest the other lifting his chin so that their eyes met. "You read the same article I did, so you know that I'm creating a calm, non-pressure environment. And our goal is to enjoy each other, not just… make it work."

He pressed into her and kissed her gently. "Understood," he sighed, deepening the kiss, feeling her tongue slipping along his lower lip. She leaned into him, and continued her silent exploration, tongue gliding over his teeth and the top of his mouth. He caught it between his lips, sucking gently, pulling her in, dueling and dancing, then pulling back, taking in a deep breath.

"I think… we're… overdressed for this goal," he murmured, and he shifted his body around so that he could lean against the counter, giving himself the support he needed to let go of his cane.

And Kathryn gave silent agreement as her fingers deftly undid the buttons on his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. Together they lifted his t-shirt over his head and she pressed her face into his bare chest, peppering his warm skin with soft kisses, while he leaned into her hair, inhaling deeply – the scent of roses, and coffee, and Kathryn. He sighed as his hands smoothed over her shoulders and along her back, unzipping her dress and pulling it down around her waist, then skimming over her hips, pushing it off to pool at their feet. The room was warm, but he felt her shiver against him.

And then her hands were tugging at the tie on his sweatpants, pulling it, loosening its hold, pushing the grey material down over his thighs and knees and calves, letting the pants join the blue dress on the floor. And he shivered, felt her smile against his cheek.

They stood there for a few moments, just holding each other, feeling skin on skin before venturing further. And then she knelt in front of him, unfastened the closures of his brace, removed it, set it to one side, and, as she often did, kissing the pressure marks above his knee, soothing them with lips and tongue, and then standing, leaning into him again, eyes searching his.

"Still a bit overdressed," he whispered, unhooking her bra and pulling it away. And then, together, they tugged at their underwear and held each other's arms as they stepped out of them.

Before he could take a good look at her and drink her in, she pressed into him, breasts against chest, stomach to groin, and his breath caught in his throat.

She breathed into his neck, nuzzling at that sensitive spot under his ear. "I love you," she sighed.

"I love you." He lowered his lips to hers and, remembering their goal, enjoyed himself.

~vVv~

At some point, they made it three steps across the floor, and helped each other ease into the warm bath, finding a comfortable position where they could hold each other and explore at the same time, kissing and caressing, hands and mouths gliding over wet skin and silken hair. They lost track of time and expectations and goals, just doing what felt right and felt good.

Kathryn spent a long time running her fingers over his left side, her touch alternately soft then firm, and always seeking and accepting, learning his body and what pleased him as he, in turn, pleasured her. Each sigh, every gasp, leading him – the line of her neck, the crease below her breasts, the curve of her hips, the tapering of her legs – and all the spaces in between – he found them, and learned them, and breathed them in and held them close. And for his every move there was a counterpoint, her hands on him – that hollow of his throat, the broad expanse of chest - smooth and hairless under her fingertips – and hips and strong thighs.

A breath, a touch, a lifetime…

And then, she spooned against him, and lay still, her head pillowed on his shoulder as he ran his fingers through her hair.

"Are you all right?" she whispered, fingers tracing softly over his cheek and chin, down along his neck.

And he knew what she was asking, knew her concern. Their touching hadn't led to making love, but he knew that it would, soon…

He sighed, dropping a soft kiss onto her forehead. "I'm fine," he breathed. And he was – content to accomplish one goal at a time. "I think… we enjoyed each other."

And she pressed her face into him and he felt her smile against his chest.

~vVv~


	41. Chapter 41

After their early bath, they had a long Friday evening ahead of them with no other plans that could rival what they'd already experienced. So when B'Elanna called suggesting that they all go out to dinner, Kathryn went in search of Chakotay to see what he thought about the idea. She found him puttering around in the kitchen trying to decide what to prepare for their evening meal.

"I have an easy solution," she offered. "B'Elanna just called. She and Tom have asked us out to dinner – a new pub near their apartment. What do you think?"

Chakotay readily agreed. "Sounds like a plan to me. I couldn't think of a thing to replicate."

"And here I thought you were going to make me a home-cooked meal," Kathryn pouted teasingly.

He moved over next to her in the doorway, his body close to hers. "We just shared a hand-drawn bath; a home-cooked meal might be too much of a good thing."

Kathryn smiled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "One can never have too much of a good thing." And the hand that she pressed against his chest slid lower over his stomach.

And Chakotay coughed, then asked, "What time did B'Elanna want us to meet?" He glanced at the clock above the replicator. It was almost 1800 hours.

Kathryn stepped back, withdrawing her hand before it went any further, but Chakotay grabbed hold of it, lifted it to his lips, and kissed her fingers.

She sighed and wrapped her hand around his. "I need to call her back to let her know you said yes, but I'm thinking around 1900 hours. She said Miral was with Tom's parents, but they'd pick her up afterwards."

Chakotay closed the gap between them, entwined hands caught against their chests. "So an early night?"

And she grinned, kissing the spot under his chin that had so intrigued her lately, soft and warm with the faint pulse of his heartbeat. "We can always eat and run."

And he laughed. "Don't you think Tom and B'Elanna might notice?"

"Let them," she sighed, her lips traveling up to his mouth and kissing him gently.

~vVv~

"He looks good," B'Elanna observed.

"He should," Kathryn laughed, her gaze focused on Chakotay and Tom playing darts on the other side of the pub. "He took longer to get ready than I did." But he did look handsome in his jeans and black V-neck sweater.

B'Elanna cut her eyes toward Kathryn. "Do I need to start worrying about another mid-life crisis?"

And Kathryn shook her head. "No, I think we're safe. He says he's going to go grey."

B'Elanna gave a snort of laughter. "I'll believe it when I see it."

"Look closely at the temples. It's there," Kathryn smiled.

"Well, at least now he doesn't have a twenty year gap to try to close," B'Elanna said, then realized how it sounded. "I didn't mean to say that you were…" It was only getting worse.

"Old?" Kathryn supplied and then laughed again. "Don't worry, B'Elanna. I am older, but don't put us out to pasture yet. There's still a lot of life in both of us." And she took a long sip of her coffee, returned her gaze to Chakotay.

They'd had a nice dinner – traditional pub food, cider, and ale, and now she and B'Elanna were enjoying coffee and raktajino while Tom and Chakotay played darts. It reminded her of rings, and she thought fleetingly of Michael Sullivan, thankful for what she had now with Chakotay. The real thing was so much better.

"So… everything's all right?" B'Elanna's voice sounded hesitant, and Kathryn glanced over at her.

"We're fine. Settling in." She raised her eyebrows at her. "Remember, this isn't the first time we've lived together."

And B'Elanna sighed. "I don't think New Earth counts."

"Why not?"

"That was different. You weren't a couple then. Now you are."

And Kathryn smiled in agreement. "Now we are."

And B'Elanna laughed. "You're glowing again."

"I am not," she resisted, even as she blushed, her gaze focused on Chakotay as he switched his cane to his left hand so he could throw the dart with his right. Even from this distance, she could see the outline of his muscular shoulders through his sweater.

"In case you haven't noticed, I still look at Tom that way," B'Elanna grinned.

"Oh, I've noticed. When it comes to romance, you two have always been role models. Ever since that dressing down I had to give the pair of you about your adolescent behavior while on duty."

B'Elanna winced even though she heard the teasing tone in Kathryn's voice. "Not our finest moments."

"Oh, I don't know. The gossip was pretty good. I just had that damn alien-induced headache at the time. Otherwise, I might have enjoyed the show – wondering where and when you'd pop up next – in the turbolift, behind the warp core… Jefferies tube number 42."

B'Elanna smiled. "Actually… it was number 43."

And they were both laughing when Tom and Chakotay returned.

"Looks like we missed the joke," Tom directed towards Chakotay as they both sank into their chairs.

"Probably at our expense," Chakotay added, and Kathryn instinctively reached out and held his arm as he touched the side of his brace, allowing it to bend at his knee.

B'Elanna cast a glance in Tom's direction. "Our expense, Helmboy. Just remembering that lecture we got from Kathryn about using better judgment in the pursuit of our relationship."

Tom's eyes creased at the memory. "Yeah." He frowned slightly. "We were… way out of line."

"If I recall, you were in perfect alignment," Chakotay grinned, picking up his bottle of ale and taking a long drink. He wiped the back of his hand over his lips. "Of course, that was the mission where I aged sixty years in a couple of hours, so keeping track of your love life was the farthest thing from my mind." He sighed. "I was just trying to keep my head warm."

"Oh, you poor thing," Kathryn gave him a teasing pout and ran her hand over the back of his head, fingers carding through the dark hair. "It may go grey, but I think you'll keep it."

"Gee, thanks," he quipped, and was both surprised and pleased when she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips.

Tom cleared his throat, but at least he didn't whistle. Instead, he quoted Kathryn. "You are senior officers and I expect you to maintain the standard for the rest of the crew, but this adolescent behavior makes me question my faith in you both."

And Kathryn pulled back, giggling. "How can you remember those exact words?"

"How can I forget them?" Tom's eyes widened. "I don't think you realize just how stern you can be when aliens are sticking invisible needles into your head. B'Elanna and I were afraid to make out for almost a week – and only then safely behind locked doors."

Kathryn sat back and smiled, her hand finding Chakotay's hand under the table, wrapping her fingers around his. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

And Chakotay smiled. "We've come home."

~vVv~

A half hour later, the transporter beam released them at the front door of the townhouse. Chakotay swayed for a moment before regaining his balance, and Kathryn reached out and wrapped her hands around his arms in support. He took advantage of the moment and leaned in to kiss her.

"I believe a kiss on the doorstep is customary at the end of a date," he murmured as his lips touched hers, soft and gentle, the pressure increasing as Kathryn tilted her face up to him.

A moment later, he drew back and Kathryn smiled. "I think it's only customary if the date ends here. But I was planning on asking you in for a nightcap, so… you might get lucky."

She keyed in the code and opened the door, taking Chakotay's hand in hers and leading him inside.

"Very forward of you, Captain Janeway," he observed, "seeing that this is our first official date outside of Starfleet Medical."

She took off her coat and hung it on the rack by the door, then turned and helped him pull off his jacket, hanging it beside hers. "I've always been rather forward thinking, Commander. Surely you know that by now."

He reached out and took hold of her hand again, his thumb rubbing across her fingers. "Well, I was hoping…"

She led him further into the living room. "Care for that nightcap? A cup of coffee? A brandy?"

He shook his head. "No coffee. And definitely no brandy. I'm watching what I drink."

"I noticed. You nursed that one bottle of ale all night."

He stopped her forward motion, and she turned as he pulled her back to him with his right hand, holding her close to his side. His hand brushed softly over her cheek and he ran his fingers through her hair, bent to kiss her again. She sighed against his lips, and he savored the familiar taste of coffee on her breath.

"I had a good time tonight," he said softly.

She smiled, running her fingers across his forehead, tracing the lines of his tattoo. "I did, too."

And then she was pulling him toward the stairs, and he followed, leaned against her as he climbed the four steps up to the hallway, and then trailed behind her to the bedroom.

"It's later than I realized," he noticed, his eyes reading the clock on the bedside table. It was a little after 2300 hours.

"So much for eating and running," Kathryn sighed, letting go of his hand and watching as he crossed to the bed and sank down onto the edge.

He started to get undressed, but she knelt in front of him, placing her hands over his, tugging at the button on his jeans. "You know I can do this," he reminded her.

She looked up at him, her lips slightly parted, her breathing increased. "I know… I just… want to."

He nodded, and she returned her eyes to the task at hand, undoing the button and pulling his jeans down over his hips and across his thighs to his knees. And they sighed at the same time, his arousal quite evident beneath the cotton fabric of his boxers. Kathryn looked back up at him, her eyes wet with tears. "I don't think we need another bath," she breathed.

And he lowered his face to hers and kissed her.

~vVv~

He lay on his back, his heart beating fast and hard against his ribs, sweat drying on his body in the cool air. Beside him, Kathryn pressed against him, arms and legs entwined with his, her skin warm and moist, breathing quick and shallow. Her hand rubbed over his chest.

"You're all right," she whispered.

And he grinned up at the ceiling. "Hell of a flight of stairs," he gasped, remembering the doctor's comparison.

Kathryn managed to laugh softly. "And you took them two at a time."

He drew in a deep breath, tried to let it out slowly. "Maybe three at a time."

"No, just two at a time…" He felt her smile against his shoulder. "I'm almost forty-five. I don't think I can handle more than two."

And Chakotay smiled at her play on words. He was just damned relieved that he could take the flight of stairs in the first place – one step at a time was fine with him. He'd still made it to the top.

"Not bad for an old man," he sighed, turning over onto his side and pulling Kathryn against his chest and stomach, spooning around her.

She snuggled into him, feeling the broad expanse of his chest damp against her back. "You're pretty proud of yourself, aren't you?"

He grinned, kissing the back of her neck, nuzzling his nose beneath her ear. "I love you, Kathryn."

And she pulled his arms closer around her, his hands smoothing over her breasts and stomach. "I love you, Chakotay. So much."

And they held and caressed each other until finally their eyes closed and they slept.

~vVv~


	42. Chapter 42

"You're going to have to wipe that silly grin off your face." Kathryn smiled at him over the rim of her coffee cup. "Taryn's going to know what we've been up to."

Chakotay's grin just grew broader. "Morning flight of stairs – good therapy."

She took another sip of coffee and tilted her head. "It was good," she sighed. Their morning lovemaking had been just as satisfying as the night before. "But we should still schedule those baths just to be on the safe side."

Chakotay lifted his cup to his lips, savoring the taste and warmth of the herbal tea and nodded. "Oh, most definitely. As your former first officer, I firmly support being on the safe side."

Kathryn lifted her eyebrows. "That's good to know. I'm always in favor of… firm support." And she started laughing while Chakotay rolled his eyes.

"Between your giggles and my grin, Taryn's definitely going to know what we've been up to." He set down his cup and took another bite of toast, watched Kathryn do the same, loving how her tongue licked gently at the marmalade before she actually took a bite. "And you accused me of being feline. You nibble at toast like a kitten lapping milk," he chuckled.

And she did it again just to tease him.

"Don't," he sighed. "Taryn will be here in about fifteen minutes, and, while I may be able to climb another flight of stairs in that timeframe, I'm not sure what condition she'd find us in."

Kathryn smiled seductively. "Extremely relaxed and naked on the kitchen table."

Chakotay gave her a full dimpled grin and reached across the table, his thumb tracing along her lower lip – a new, familiar morning gesture – wiping marmalade off her mouth – only this time, she caught his thumb between her lips, licking at the sweetness.

He pulled his hand back. "I'm serious," he warned.

And she laughed gently. "All right. No more teasing. But I'm definitely thinking toast and marmalade for dinner."

~vVv~

Taryn had him walking for most of the morning – down the block, around the corner, across the street, over to the transporter station, and back. They didn't actually transport to the station near Starfleet Medical – they'd save that for another day – but she made sure that he could traverse the path between the local station and Kathryn's front door on his own.

By the time she was finished with him, he was exhausted.

"I'm thinking lunch and a nap," Taryn suggested as he literally fell into the living room sofa.

"I'm just thinking nap," Chakotay groaned, glancing over at Kathryn who was seated at her desk with padds scattered around her.

Kathryn smiled. "It's only 1100 hours. You could take a late morning nap while I finish up some reports."

"Sounds like a plan," Chakotay sighed as his eyes fell closed.

He was snoring by the time Kathryn walked Taryn to the front door. The occupational therapist gave her an apologetic look. "I'm afraid I pushed him a bit this morning. I hope he's not grumpy when he wakes up."

"Oh, so you've seen that side of him," Kathryn laughed softly, leaning against the open door as Taryn stepped onto the front steps.

"A few times."

Kathryn shook her head. "He'll be fine." She reached out and touched Taryn's arm. "Thank you – for all you've done for him. I don't think he'd be where he is now without you."

"You're welcome, Kathryn. But don't forget to give yourself some credit. I know he wouldn't be where he is now… without you."

~vVv~

After a lunch of grilled cheese sandwiches and soup, Chakotay called for a site-to-site transport to Starfleet Medical.

"If Scott works me as hard as Taryn did this morning, your plans for a Saturday night breakfast may have to be postponed. I can only manage so many flights of stairs in one day," he smiled. "Both literal and figurative."

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Then tell Scott to find other therapy methods today because the stairs are all mine."

He laughed. "And what will you be doing while I'm avoiding stairs?"

Kathryn shrugged, looking around at her scattered notes and padds. "I'm sure I'll find something to keep me busy."

He grabbed hold of her hands. "Don't work all afternoon. Promise?" She worked too much between taking care of him and her job.

She sighed. "All right. I promise. I'll find something to fill my time… before breakfast."

~vVv~

And she did. An hour later, she and B'Elanna were wandering through antique shops, this time in North Beach.

"I thought Tom wasn't going to let you go antiquing with me again," Kathryn had said when they met at the North Beach transporter station.

"I didn't actually tell him where I was going," B'Elanna had replied.

And Kathryn had laughed. "Well, as long as you don't go home with a birdcage, he'll never know."

And chances were she wouldn't. Her interests that afternoon weren't focused on shopping but rather on her former commanding officers.

"You both seemed really happy and relaxed last night," she observed as Kathryn rummaged through a box of old books.

"We are happy and relaxed," she returned, picking up a thin volume and turning dusty pages.

B'Elanna sighed. "And you seemed really… close."

"We are close. We're living together," Kathryn said simply.

Another sigh. "And everything is… all right?"

Kathryn looked up from the book in her hand and settled a firm gaze on B'Elanna. "Are you asking about our sex life?" she inquired bluntly.

And B'Elanna actually blinked and stepped back under the scrutiny. "No… I mean, not specifically… I mean… Well, actually…" She gave what sounded like an exasperated growl. "Hell… yes," she bit off succinctly.

And Kathryn laughed, a soft laugh that bubbled up from inside and ended in a gentle sigh. "We're fine, B'Elanna. And… it's good." She smiled. "Really good."

And B'Elanna sighed and relaxed, leaned back against a bookshelf. "I don't mean to pry… It's just that… Well, Tom and I have been doing some reading about stroke rehab, and some of the articles mention that some patients, well… That some areas of recovery are… difficult. And I know Chakotay… He's such a private and…"

"Passionate man?"

B'Elanna swallowed her response and just nodded.

And Kathryn's smile broadened. "He still is."

And B'Elanna actually blushed, something she rarely did. But even after all these years of loving Tom, she could still remember her first year with the Maquis and that "schoolgirl crush" she'd had on Chakotay.

"I can't believe I asked." She glanced down at the floor. "You're my captain…"

"Was your captain," Kathryn reminded with a sigh. She set down the book, reached out and touched B'Elanna's arm. "And… I'm sort of glad you did. Do you know how many years it's been since I've had someone to share… girl talk with?"

B'Elanna looked up. "I guess I never thought about that." And she grinned. "So… it's good?"

And Kathryn laughed. "He's passionate and _private_," she stressed the second word. "But yes… we're good."

~vVv~

It was a nice, relaxing afternoon. They wandered through several shops, not really looking for anything, even though Chakotay's birthday was two weeks away, and then they stopped for coffee and pastry at an Italian bakery.

"So, what are you getting him for his birthday?" B'Elanna asked, taking a bite of her cannoli.

Kathryn took a long sip of coffee before answering. She'd been formulating a plan for the past week, but she hadn't shared it with anyone yet. "I thought I'd arrange a trip to Dorvan V. What do you think?"

"I think he'd love it."

Kathryn nodded. "I can arrange for a Starfleet vessel to get us there faster - one of the perks of being a Federation Council liaison."

"And being Kathryn Janeway," B'Elanna laughed. "Admit it. You're still uncomfortable with your celebrity status."

And Kathryn sighed. "Uncomfortable – yes," she admitted. "Unwilling to exploit it – no. Not if it can get us to Dorvan in four days."

"Will his doctors let him travel?" A trace of concern edged B'Elanna's voice.

"I haven't spoken with them yet, but it'll depend on their approval. Whichever ship we travel on will have its own doctors and a sickbay, so he'll have support if he needs it."

B'Elanna reached over and took hold of Kathryn's hand, squeezed it gently. "He'll have you," she smiled softly. "You're his best support."

~vVv~


	43. Chapter 43

Before she took him to Dorvan, there was someplace else she wanted to take Chakotay – someplace she'd wanted to take him for a long time – home.

And so, an hour later, she found herself at her computer console, smiling as the soft, familiar lines of her mother's face filled the monitor.

"Well, it's about time," Gretchen Janeway scolded her oldest daughter. "He's been home four days, and I'm just now getting an update."

Kathryn sighed at her mother's words, grimaced slightly; she knew she should have contacted her earlier in the week. "I'm sorry. We've just been… so busy."

The older woman's expression softened even as a teasing gleam lit her eyes. "I'm sure you have been."

"Mom!" Kathryn exclaimed, immediately picking up on her mother's innuendo.

But her mother wasn't deterred. "I've seen that former first officer of yours. I'd be more than ready to take him home."

And this time, Kathryn couldn't help but smile. She had been ready to take him home, and although it had taken a few days of adjustment – a difficult few days – she was so relieved that he was here.

"Let's just say we've settled in quite well," she admitted, and sighed again at the look on her mother's face. "And leave it at that," she added when Gretchen raised an eyebrow and started to speak.

And her mother laughed. "Don't worry. I wasn't going to ask for details." She let out a deep breath. "I'm just glad you've got him home."

"I am, too," Kathryn whispered, not missing the deeper meaning of those words.

From the very first letter that she'd been able to send her mother while still in the Delta Quadrant, Gretchen Janeway had known, had been able to read between the lines that she wrote about her first officer – she'd known that Kathryn had loved him before Kathryn had even admitted it to herself. And while she struggled to bring her crew home, she brought that love home with her. But it had taken Chakotay's illness to make her finally come to terms with it.

Gretchen remembered the call that Kathryn had made three weeks ago – one of those calls in the middle of the night when you wake from a sound sleep and you know that something bad has happened.

_Her face was red; her eyes were puffy; she was still sniffling – but she was trying to hold it together._

"_Mom?"_

"_What is it?"_

"_It's… it's Chakotay… He's… he's had a stroke."_

"_Oh, Katie…"_

_Kathryn ran a hand across her face and eyes; she hadn't planned on calling her mother, but she'd pulled herself out of the bath, gotten dressed, and found herself at the computer, keying in her mother's comm address without even thinking of the time difference – it was almost 2300 hours in Indiana, and her mother often went to bed early._

"_I'm sorry. I hope I didn't wake you."_

"_Don't you worry. Just tell me about Chakotay. What happened?"_

_And Gretchen listened while her daughter told her, watched as the tears filled her eyes again, and ached to reach out and take her eldest in her arms, rock her gently and hold her close, give her the strength that she needed to be strong for him – the man she'd finally admitted to loving._

"_I told him, Mom." She swallowed, drew in a shallow breath. "I told him that I loved him."_

"_And what did he say?"_

_Kathryn smiled through her tears. "You know what he said. You've always known."_

"_So have you; you've just been running away from it for so long."_

"_Mom… You know that I couldn't… not on _Voyager_. And when we got home…"_

"_I know. He was with Seven, but he hasn't been with her for three months…"_

_And Kathryn sighed. "All right. Say it. It takes something like this to make me realize how much I love him."_

_Gretchen smiled. "I think you've said it just fine yourself. But this didn't make you realize it – it just made you admit it." She watched the expression on her daughter's face soften. "You need each other – you've always needed each other. And right now, he's going to need you more than he ever has."_

_Kathryn took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I love him so much, Mom."_

"_I know. And he knows." She watched as Kathryn wiped tears from her cheeks, wished she could be there with her. "You can do this, Katie. If you brought an entire crew home from the Delta Quadrant, you can bring him home, too."_

And she had. Every light year, every step. To Earth, to San Francisco… to her.

"He really is doing so much better. Getting around, walking. He's at therapy right now – he pushes himself so hard."

Gretchen smiled. "He has to keep up with you."

Kathryn sighed. It was an old argument – she worked too hard, kept long hours, didn't take care of herself – she'd heard it all before, had all of her mother's words memorized.

And before she had a chance to repeat them, she countered her assertions. "For your information, I took yesterday off, and, although I worked on a few reports this morning, I went shopping with B'Elanna this afternoon. And… I'm planning a vacation for me and Chakotay. I thought we'd go to Dorvan. I know how much he misses Sekaya and her family."

Gretchen nodded in approval but her eyebrows arched in inquiry. "And do you know how much your family misses you?"

"As much as I miss them," Kathryn laughed. "That's why I called. Before we go all the way to Dorvan, I thought we might visit you next weekend… if that's all right."

"You don't even have to ask; you know that. All I do is rattle around this old house all day. I'd love to have you both come and stay for as long as you want. And I know Phoebe, Jeff, and the kids would be thrilled to see you. Every other word out of Ellie's mouth is Aunt Katie this, and Aunt Katie that. You didn't just hang the moon – as far as she's concerned, you are the moon."

Kathryn smiled as images of her eight-year-old niece flashed through her mind – strawberry blond hair and gap-toothed smile – closely followed by her curly-headed five-year-old brother Cooper.

"Although… your sister's not too happy with you right now," he mother continued.

Kathryn sighed; she knew why. "Mom, I called her last week. We talked for twenty minutes."

"I know," Gretchen gave a sigh of her own. "But that was seven days ago. She knows you're busy, but she can't stand that you're in a relationship and not sharing every little detail with her."

"She has two kids, a husband, and a full-time career – how does she even find time to be concerned about my relationship?"

And her mother gave her a gentle smile. "Because she's wanted this for you for a long time… we both have."

Kathryn nodded, her expression softening. "I'll give her a call tomorrow. We'll make plans. I know Chakotay would love a tour of the museum."

"And there's a jazz festival in town beginning next Saturday, and the history center has some wonderful exhibits – surely you can stay longer than a weekend."

"Three or four days, but then we'll need to leave for Dorvan – as long as his doctors approve."

Gretchen shook her head. "That's my girl – already planning adventures before you've gotten permission to travel."

"Oh, it's just a formality. We'll have full access to doctors and a sickbay if he should need anything."

"And while you're here, I'll make plenty of chicken soup and chocolate caramel brownies – guaranteed to cure any illness."

"Umm," she hummed, remembering the taste of her mother's home cooking. "Once he tastes your brownies, he may not want to leave."

"And that'll be just fine. Stay as long as you want. You just bring him home to meet your mother."

Kathryn rolled her eyes. "Mom, you've met him before – at _Voyager_'s welcome-home banquet."

"I met the commander and your first officer," she stated formally, then smiled. "Now I'm ready to meet your Chakotay."

~vVv~

"I think it's an excellent idea," he beamed. "And I'm sure Sam will agree."

Kathryn's next call had been to the Doctor, informing him of her plans.

"I know he's not supposed to return to work for at least three or four weeks, and I thought this would be a good time to visit family."

"'You're right. He'll need to maintain his therapy sessions, but I'm sure both Taryn and Scott have holoprograms that will suffice, especially en route to Dorvan. And while you're in Indiana, you can work with him. He's really making good progress." He raised an eyebrow. "In all areas, I hope."

And Kathryn's cheeks grew warm under the Doctor's gaze. "Progress is… excellent," she managed without laughing.

"Oh, good," he beamed again. "I told you that article would be helpful. Open communication can lead to an honest, open expression of needs and desires – which can, in turn, lead to-"

"A quite enjoyable experience," Kathryn cut him off, not wanting to have their love life dissected into technical terms by their well-meaning, but, at times, indelicate Doctor. "We're doing just fine… thank you."

"You're welcome," he responded. "I suggest you keep up with that particular therapy regime as well."

And this time she did laugh.

~vVv~

He was tired when he got home, but not too tired to take a shower while she prepared dinner. "I can sit on the bench," he reminded her when that familiar worried expression crossed her features. "If I'm not down in twenty minutes, you can send an away team to look for me."

That made her smile. "And just who would I assign to that particular team?"

"The Delaney sisters," he chuckled as he headed slowly toward the stairs.

She shook her head and laughed. "In your dreams, Commander."

He paused at the foot of the stairs, looked back over his shoulder. "You're the only one in my dreams."

And she felt tears touch her eyes as he turned and made his way up the stairs. He always knew just the right words to say.

~vVv~


	44. Chapter 44

**Author's Note:** Thanks for all the great reviews! I really appreciate them. I know this is a short chapter, but I thought I'd go ahead and post it anyway. I hope to add another chapter before the weekend is over. Thanks for reading! JT

Twenty minutes passed, and he didn't appear. But she knew he wouldn't. As tired as he was, twenty minutes had been an overly optimistic estimate – undressing, showering, and re-dressing would take him much longer. But when thirty-five minutes had gone by, she started to get concerned and went in search of her wayward first officer, chuckling again at his first choice of away team members.

"The Delaney sisters weren't available," she called out as she entered the bedroom, expecting to see him sitting on the edge of the bed getting dressed.

But she pulled up short when she found the room empty.

"Chakotay?" She stepped over to the bathroom door, stuck her head in – and smiled.

The water in the shower had cut off, but he was still sitting on the shower bench, leaning back against the tiled wall, his head bent forward onto his chest, eyes closed, sound asleep. He was even snoring.

Kathryn shook her head and touched the control panel on the wall, manually raising the temperature. Then she took a large towel from the rack and quietly walked over to him, knelt down, and covered his body with the soft terrycloth material before she attempted to wake him. Gently, she rubbed the towel over him, drying the drops of water that beaded on his bronzed skin.

He jumped, jerking instantly awake, eyes blinking open in sudden surprise and fear.

"Shh, you're all right. You just fell asleep," she reassured, her hands gentle and firm as she continued to dry him.

He pulled away from the wall, sitting up, his gaze focusing on her more fully. "Not… not asleep," he mumbled.

And she laughed. "Sorry. I'm not buying the 'just resting my eyes' line. You were snoring."

He started to say something.

"And yes, you do snore," she insisted.

And he sighed, a soft smile lighting his features as he relaxed under her hands. "I just breathe heavily," he asserted.

"And loudly at times," she added, rubbing the towel up over his chest.

Chakotay caught her hand, brought it to his lips, kissed her fingers. "Sorry," he murmured. "How long was I asleep?"

She smiled. "Not long. You were still wet." She ran her fingers over his cheek. "Good thing I didn't send the Delaney sisters."

"I told you. I'd much rather be rescued by you anyway," he whispered, leaning forward and kissing her deeply.

But as good as the kiss was, she could tell that he was still exhausted, could feel the slight lack of pressure behind his lips, the hesitancy of his tongue as it slipped into her mouth, the deep inhalation of breath when they pulled back.

"Come on. Let's get you dressed, and fed, and into bed," she suggested, taking hold of his hand to help him stand.

He raised an expectant eyebrow.

"To sleep," she added, pulling him to his feet and knotting the towel around his waist.

He sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder for support. "I thought we had other plans for our after-breakfast-dinner entertainment."

She gazed up at him. "Chakotay, now that we know we can, we don't have to climb those stairs every night."

"I happen to like climbing stairs," he pouted as they walked into the bedroom and over to the bed. He sat down on the side, and Kathryn rubbed her hand over his shoulder.

"I like it, too. A lot. But you were up late last night… And this morning…"

He grinned at her play on words.

"Why don't we just enjoy our breakfast-dinner, and see how we're feeling afterwards. Besides," she added as she went over to the dresser to retrieve his clothes, "I've got some surprises to share."

When she turned back, he had that raised eyebrow and damned dimpled smile again. "Surprises?"

She sighed. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You are absolutely incorrigible." She threw his t-shirt at him, hitting him squarely in the face, then knelt on the floor in front of him, boxers and sweats in hand. "Now get dressed," she insisted, pulling the towel away and starting on his lower half while he pulled on his shirt.

A few minutes later, she strapped his brace over his sweats and looked up. Chakotay was grinning down at her.

"You know, I like the opposite of this much better," he said, fingers reaching out and brushing through the soft strands of her hair.

She leaned into his hand, his palm cupping her cheek. "There's a time and a place for everything, Commander. And right now, I'd like some toast and marmalade."

"Umm," he hummed, "that does sound good."

And she stood, took his hand, pulled him up, handed him his cane.

He trailed behind her as she led him out the door.

"Maybe we'll work on inverse operations after we eat," she threw back over her shoulder with a smoky laugh.

He squeezed her hand. "I'm holding you to that promise."

"Just keep your eyes open, Old Man."

~vVv~


	45. Chapter 45

Chakotay spread a liberal amount of butter on his toast before covering it with a thin layer of marmalade; he smiled over at Kathryn who was doing the same. The rest of their meal consisted of fruit salad, banana pancakes, and tall glasses of crisp, cold tomato juice – something tart to offset all the sweetness Kathryn had insisted. It all made for a wonderfully refreshing dinner, and this was his third piece of toast after eating two pancakes.

"You know banana is B'Elanna's favorite," he mumbled around a big bite of toast.

And Kathryn smiled. "Where do you think I got the idea?"

He swallowed and brushed the back of his hand over his lips. "So you two went antiquing again. Any more birdcages?"

She laughed. "Not a one. Our former engineer was much more interested in our love life."

Chakotay lifted an eyebrow. "Really?"

Kathryn nodded. "But I don't kiss and tell. At least, not much." Chakotay's eyebrow lifted higher. "Let's just say that B'Elanna's pleased for us and leave it at that."

Chakotay took a long drink of his tomato juice and then smiled. "You know, I was lucky all those years on _Voyager_."

Kathryn looked at him inquiringly, and he continued.

"I missed Sekaya, but I found a younger sister in B'Elanna. And, of course, I found you."

She grimaced slightly. "I'm sorry our relationship wasn't as easy to define."

He reached over and touched her arm, rubbed gently over soft skin. "At least we've defined it now." He grinned. "And I think I'll be up to defining it later as well."

She shook her head at the look on his face. "What am I going to do with you?" she sighed.

And he squeezed her arm. "Oh, I have several ideas, but I'd rather show than tell."

"Just slow down and finish your dinner. Besides, I have something for you."

"That's what I was hoping," he smirked.

With another shake of her head, Kathryn pulled away from his grasp and got up from the table, retrieved a small wrapped package from the cupboard, and returned. "This is for you," she said, sinking back into her chair. "Happy birthday!"

Chakotay touched the package, his fingers rubbing along the gold ribbon. "You're a bit early. My birthday isn't for two more weeks."

"I know. But I wanted to go ahead and give this to you." She nodded toward the gift. "Go on. Open it."

Chakotay pulled the ribbon away and then peeled off the silver paper. Inside was a small box, and when he lifted the lid and pushed back the tissue paper, he found two pieces of rectangular paper. "What are these?" he questioned, taking them out of the box.

"Read them," Kathryn instructed.

Chakotay turned the paper in his fingers and saw that there was writing on one side, neat handwritten printing that read, "First Class Ticket to Dorvan V."

At the realization of what they were, he drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes, felt a warm rush of tears behind his eyelids.

"Chakotay?" Kathryn's voice was hesitant, as was the hand that touched his arm, fingers lightly rubbing along his elbow.

He nodded and opened his eyes, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. "And here I thought I was past sudden emotional displays," he whispered gruffly, quickly rubbing his fingers over his eyes.

Kathryn smiled tentatively, her hand still rubbing along his arm. "Is it a good idea?" she asked, nodding toward the homemade tickets he held in his hand.

Seeing the look of uncertainty in her eyes, he realized that she wasn't sure about his reaction. And he leaned forward, held his hand to her cheek, and kissed her gently. "The best idea," he murmured, and kissed her again.

Kathryn leaned into him, her forehead resting against his. She sighed. "I thought you'd be pleased, but… I wasn't sure."

"It's the third-best present I've ever received," he assured her, as she pulled back, her face registering his words.

"Third best?" Her eyebrows arched in puzzlement.

And he smiled softly, his fingers tracing over her cheek. "Well, technically, second best, since there's a tie for first place. The best present was three weeks ago when you told me that you loved me… and last night when you showed me."

This time, Kathryn closed her eyes and felt the tears spill over onto her cheeks. Chakotay wiped them away with his fingertips, and then his lips as he kissed her.

~vVv~

Kathryn lay with her head on his shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns across his bare chest and stomach. The sound of his heart beat steadily in her ear. His large body was damp and warm, and she curled into him, her leg draped over his, clinging to him. And she giggled.

Chakotay drew in a deep breath, chest rising, and then let it out slowly. "I just… successfully climbed another flight of stairs… and you're giggling."

Kathryn smiled at the slight tone of indignation in his voice. Men and their egos bruised so easily when sex was involved. She pressed a kiss to his chest, her arms tightening around him. "Best stair climbing I've ever done in my life," she assured, and felt him shake with his own silent laughter. She sighed. "I just feel like one of those creatures that attached themselves to _Voyager_'s hull."

This time, he laughed out loud, a deep rumble that vibrated against her cheek. "The ones who rolled over and changed color?"

"Um-um." She felt him shift as he pulled her closer, his hand smoothing down her side and over the curve of her hip.

"So, do you have any questions about mating behavior?" he murmured, remembering the teasing words she'd said after the crisis had passed.

She shook her head against him. "You've answered them all," she whispered, placing another kiss on his chest as she moved her hand lower over his stomach, beneath the sheet that half covered them.

He shivered at her touch. "I think… I can only manage one flight," he sighed regretfully.

"Me, too. I just want…" Her voice trailed off as she pressed closer and exhaled a long contented breath.

"To attach yourself to my hull?" Chakotay smiled, dropping a kiss to her forehead.

"Sounds good."

They lay in silence for several long minutes, enjoying the feel of sated skin on skin, their breathing settling into a shared rhythm.

"So… what's my other surprise?"

"Umm?" she breathed sleepily.

"You said earlier that you had some surprises to share. The trip to Dorvan is one. What's the other?"

Kathryn opened her eyes and shifted her gaze up to him. His brown eyes were bright and alert, questioning. She smiled at his eagerness – like a little boy on Christmas morning. "How does a weekend trip to Indiana sound?" she murmured.

He grinned. "You want to take me home to meet your mother?"

She sighed, remembering her mother's similar words. "You've met my mother already, Chakotay."

He shook his head. "No. I met Mrs. Janeway." His smile broadened, creasing into the dimples she loved so much. He ran a finger down along her cheek, touched her lips. "Now I get to meet Katie's mom."

~vVv~


	46. Chapter 46

It was a last minute invitation – a Sunday evening cookout with the Paris family at Julia and Owen's house.

"All very laid back," Tom promised, leaning over B'Elanna and grinning at Kathryn in the computer monitor.

"Well, as laid back as your father can get," B'Elanna snorted.

Kathryn smiled. "Don't forget. I've known Owen Paris for a long time. I've seen his laid-back side. And yes, we'd love to come. Around 1700 hours?"

"That's right."

"Only if my favorite girl is there," Chakotay called from the sofa where he was reading a book.

B'Elanna heard. "Tell him he can have her all to himself - nothing like free babysitting."

"He'll be thrilled," Kathryn replied. "Is there anything we can bring?"

"Chakotay doesn't have any Antarian cider stashed away, does he?" Tom inquired.

"Tell him yes," Chakotay answered. "I'll bring a bottle."

Tom heard. "Sounds great. See you then."

As they terminated the link, Kathryn looked up from the monitor. "Since when do you have Antarian cider stashed away at my place?"

"Since the last time we drank it. Remember? We didn't finish both bottles. There's another one in your liquor cabinet."

Kathryn crossed over to the cabinet and opened the doors. Pushing a few bottles to one side, she found the cider and took it out, looked back at Chakotay.

He frowned. "I should have chosen cider the other night instead of scotch - doesn't give me a hangover."

Kathryn ran her hand over his shoulder as she passed behind the sofa. "In that case, I'll let you have some tonight." She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "But just a little."

~vVv~

Owen Paris had his doubts when his former protégé brought her ship home with a Maquis first officer; he was pardoned, along with the rest of the Maquis crewmembers, but Owen kept his opinion to himself for a few months, watching the man, gauging his actions, before finally admitting that he was the same officer his official records professed him to be. His sojourn with the Maquis had been forgiven by Starfleet, and Owen Paris could only do as much.

Besides, he saw the way she looked at him - even when he still had Seven of Nine on his arm.

Kathryn Janeway was in love with her first officer.

And he was in love with her.

Owen wasn't a man who put much stock in the Starfleet grapevine, but you'd be a fool to ignore it. So, after Seven's posting to Bajor, he'd kept an ear open, feeling certain that her relationship with Chakotay had come to an end. And he listened to his son and daughter-in-law, which wasn't difficult during those first few months that they'd spent at home.

Neither could be sure, but Tom had shared his thoughts on the matter one evening after dinner as he and his father sat on the patio, watching the sun dip lower over the bay.

"_Now that Seven's on Bajor, I hope they'll admit some things to each other," Tom observed when his father brought up the subject._

"_So you think there's something there to admit?" Owen ventured, reserving his own thoughts until he heard his son's._

"_I always have." He drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, took a long draw from the beer in his hand. "Not from day one, but… year one maybe."_

_Owen shook his head, still coming to terms with just how long they'd been out there – sometimes seven years still felt like forever._

"_They were best friends. I don't think either one of them would have made it without the other."_

_Owen looked at his son. "And you don't think they were ever anything more?"_

_Tom gave his father a sideways glance. "Dad, we're talking Kathryn Janeway here. You tell me. A captain seventy-five thousand light years from Earth who has to get her crew home. What do you think?"_

"_I think she loves him."_

_Tom smiled at his father's admission. "So do I. But…it was a long seven years. We watched them go through a lot. Sometimes it's hard to maintain a friendship and a chain of command all at the same time. And in the end, when he started dating Seven, well…" His voice trailed off._

_And Owen sighed. "Well, we've all heard B'Elanna's thoughts on the matter."_

_That first month they'd been home, B'Elanna hadn't kept her feelings about the situation a secret. According to his wife, Chakotay was both a fool and a p'tach, and he needed to get over his middle-aged crisis damn fast. They'd all been relieved when Seven had left for Bajor._

_And now, they were watching them, keeping their ears open, trying to find answers without really asking the questions._

"_They'll figure it out," Owen said quietly, taking a sip of his bourbon._

_And Tom looked over at his father. "You think so? They're both stubborn as hell."_

"_True. But there's too much there for them to ignore."_

_Tom shook his head. "Seems like they've ignored it for a long time."_

"_But like you said – they were in the Delta Quadrant, she had to get her crew home, they had other issues to resolve…" Owen took another drink, stared into the bottom of his glass at the amber liquid. "They're home now, and… they'll figure it out," he repeated._

_And Tom hoped his father was right._

And he had been. Sure, it had taken a couple more months and a medical emergency, but they'd finally admitted to what others had known all along.

~vVv~


	47. Chapter 47

Julia Paris had decided to serve buffet style, and the dishes spread across the kitchen island looked delicious. Unfortunately for Chakotay, holding a cane in his right hand, a dinner plate in his left, and actually serving himself was proving difficult. Luckily, he didn't have to deal with it for more than a few moments when Kathryn leaned in and deftly removed the plate from his hand and whispered in his ear. "Go play with Miral and I'll take care of this. I know what you like." He flashed a dimpled grin at her words, and she sighed. "Food, Chakotay, I know your favorite foods," she clarified.

And he bent closer and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you," he murmured, stepping away from the counter and heading toward the living room.

Behind her, Kathryn could hear B'Elanna sigh. "After all those dinners on _Voyager_, I should hope you know his favorite foods by now." She leaned in closer to Kathryn's ear. "As for the other interpretation of those words, I'm sure you've spent some time learning that as well."

Kathryn rolled her eyes and glared back at B'Elanna. Now that they weren't in a command structure, her former chief engineer was much more forward in her prying and merciless in her teasing. "We're doing just fine, thank you," she replied, and couldn't help but smile at the raised eyebrow B'Elanna shot back.

Kathryn just laughed and started filling Chakotay's plate with the various items, glancing around the kitchen island at the assembled guests. Other than the Paris family, Harry and Libby were there, as were Reg Barclay and the Doctor.

"I heard you and Chakotay are planning some trips in the next few weeks," Reg spoke up from across the island.

Kathryn nodded, looking pointedly over at the Doctor. "And I wonder where you heard that from," she responded.

The Doctor blinked. "It wasn't a secret, was it?"

And Kathryn smiled. "No, it wasn't. And yes, Reg, we are. We'll be leaving for Indiana at the end of the week, and next Tuesday we're off to Dorvan V."

"You know, I've been to Dorvan twice, but I've never been to Indiana," Reg said, placing a piece of French bread on top of his plate and picking up a fork and napkin. "You're from Bloomington, right?"

"That's right. And you're from here, aren't you?"

He nodded. "Born and raised in San Francisco. Other than New York and D.C., I don't travel locally very much."

"You need to get out more, Reg," the Doctor chided. "Get some sun; see the wonders that North America has to offer."

Reg laughed. "Believe me; the wonders of Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy keep me enthralled on a daily basis."

Kathryn placed a piece of cornbread on Chakotay's plate and gathered a fork and napkin for him. "The Academy is keeping Chakotay interested as well," she added, stepping toward the living room. "I know he's going to be relieved once he's back."

Reg walked along beside her. "I've already assured him that Lieutenant Donavan is doing a fine job taking over both of his classes."

Kathryn nodded at his reassurance. "Just don't tell him he's doing too good of a job. He'll worry."

"Oh, no need to worry. No one can replace the commander."

And Kathryn smiled in agreement, and then laughed when she entered the living room. At that particular moment, the commander had his hands full with a rather demanding future cadet. Miral was balanced against his shoulder and she had one chubby hand wrapped securely around Chakotay's ear, while the other pulled at his hair.

"I warned him," Tom said with a shake of his head, getting up and lifting his daughter out of Chakotay's arms so that he could take the plate that Kathryn had for him. "But he didn't listen," Tom continued as he pried the small fists away from Chakotay's head.

"I was doing fine," Chakotay said, "until she went for the hair."

He accepted the plate that Kathryn offered him with one hand and set it on the coffee table. He smiled up at her as she gently ran her fingers over his arm.

"Like I always say – women can't keep their hands off him," B'Elanna laughed, sitting down on the sofa beside Chakotay and balancing her dinner plate on her knee. She shot a knowing glance at Kathryn, who sighed and pulled her hand back.

"I'll just go get my own dinner," she announced, turning and going back into the kitchen.

"Cut 'em a little slack, B'Elanna," Tom laughed. "You know how it is with young love."

"Young?!" B'Elanna snorted. She playfully dug her elbow into Chakotay's side. "They're definitely looking at the other side of the hill."

"I heard that!" Kathryn called from the other room, and then smiled at the look that Owen gave her.

He stood on the other side of the island, his own plate in hand. "You know, your former crew is enjoying this," he said quietly.

And Kathryn nodded. "I know."

Owen handed her a plate. "They like seeing you happy."

She sighed and leaned against the counter. "And what do you think?" Not that she needed his approval, but she had to admit that in some ways, she wanted it.

He smiled. "I think it looks good on you, Kathryn."

"And Chakotay?" she asked softly.

Owen nodded. "Him, too."

And she let out a long breath and lowered her eyes. "Thanks," she murmured. She'd been back for over four months, and although she and Owen had had many conversations, they really hadn't talked in depth about the Maquis – at least, not on personal terms.

She looked up at her former commanding officer. "I owe you a debt of gratitude."

Owen shrugged. "Why?"

"Seven years ago, you sent me to find the Maquis and deliver them for trial. Who knew that I'd find the man that I love and bring him home?"

Owen set his plate down, and stepped over beside her. He wasn't usually a demonstrative man, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "Then we're even on that debt of gratitude. Who knew that you would find the man who is my son and bring him back to me?"

Kathryn smiled and was surprised when she felt Owen press a gentle kiss to the side of her forehead.

"Thank you, Kathryn," he whispered.

And she nodded, glancing through the open archway into the living room, smiling at the man who sat on the sofa, sandwiched in between B'Elanna and the Doctor. "Thank you," she breathed, wrapping an arm around the older man and hugging him.

~vVv~

Chakotay leaned against the patio railing, watching the sun set in glorious streaks of color over the bay. The wind had picked up, and the cold air pushed against his cheeks and found its way around the collar of his sweater. But still, the view was too beautiful to abandon – especially when he had it all to himself. The others were still in the living room enjoying their desserts. He'd stepped outside for a breath of air, not minding that it was almost freezing.

He heard the sliding glass door open behind him, and he looked back, expecting to find Kathryn. Instead, it was Tom.

"I thought you'd be Kathryn," he said.

Tom stepped over beside him. "Disappointed?"

He shrugged. "A little. I could use someone to keep me warm."

"Most people have enough sense not to stand in the cold with only a sweater on," Tom shot back, wrapping his arms around himself. The sweatshirt he was wearing wasn't any warmer than Chakotay's cable knit sweater. "If I'd known anyone was going to brave the patio, I could have turned on the heat lamps."

"Just thought I'd watch the sunset for a while. After seven years on _Voyager_, I can't get enough of it."

Tom sighed, propping his elbows on the railing and leaning forward. "I know what you mean. Even holodeck simulations just aren't the same." He glanced back over his shoulder. "I'm sure Kathryn would have joined you, but she has her hands full with my daughter right now."

"Actually, I'm glad you're here," Chakotay said. "I have a favor to ask."

Tom lifted an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Well, you know Kathryn and I are heading to Indiana on Thursday."

Tom nodded. "Meeting the mother – serious move, old man."

"I've met her before," Chakotay smiled at his teasing.

"True – but that was before you were sleeping with her daughter."

Chakotay frowned slightly, casting Tom an exasperated look. "Just because we're no longer in a command structure, Paris, doesn't give you the right to be so damned cheeky."

"No – but saving your life twice does," he shot back. "Besides, I've been a thorn in your side for over seven years – it's a hard role to give up."

Chakotay smiled. "Actually, you stopped being a thorn a long time ago. I just never let you know."

"Damn – that means I'm going to have to try harder," Tom laughed.

"Well, before you start making a complete ass of yourself, can you do me a favor?"

"Name it."

"I'm sure Kathryn will want to arrange a site-to-site transport on Thursday – straight from her house to her mother's front door. But I had another idea." He motioned toward the setting sun, the pale streaks of gold and orange fading quickly behind blue-grey clouds. "Standing here watching this has made me realize just how much of Earth I really haven't seen since we got back. And I know with all of her off-world conferences, Kathryn's seen less of it than I have. I was thinking that maybe a shuttle trip on Thursday would be a nice alternative to a direct transport. You know, a little low flying over the continent – the Rockies, down over the Grand Canyon, across the mid-west – take in all those golden wheat fields and acres of corn."

"So you want me to arrange for a shuttle?"

"Actually, I was hoping you'd pilot for us. Medically, I doubt the Doctor would clear me for flying and… besides, you are the better pilot. This way I can avoid the 'just how many shuttles have you lost' speech from Kathryn."

"And you two can sit back and enjoy a bottle of wine while we take the scenic tour," Tom announced, already planning the excursion in the back of his mind. "Sort of like an old-fashioned limo ride over North America."

Chakotay smiled at his friend's growing enthusiasm. "Something like that."

"Consider it done," he replied, as the door behind them opened.

"What in the hell are you two doing?" B'Elanna called. "It's freezing out here." But still, she stepped onto the patio and crossed over to them.

Kathryn, who was behind her, closed the door and followed.

They pushed in between them, and both men wrapped their arms around the woman he loved.

"Just waiting to be found," Tom answered B'Elanna's question.

"I found you a long time ago, Helmboy," she sighed, pushing close to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.

"We figured if we stayed out here long enough, you'd come looking for us," Chakotay added, smoothing his hand down over Kathryn's shoulder and drawing her closer to him. She pressed into his warmth, rubbing her cheek against the soft roughness of his sweater.

"Your mother's making your father pull out the card tables for gin," B'Elanna laughed. "Harry, Libby, Reg, and the Doctor have already started."

"Harry and Libby are in trouble," Kathryn sighed. "Reg is a hell of gin player!"

"Where's Miral?" Tom asked.

"Your mom took her up to bed, so I guess we'll just stay the night."

"In my old room again," Tom sighed.

And B'Elanna slapped him playfully on the shoulder. "Don't start sharing your teenaged fantasies out loud. Kathryn and Chakotay don't need to hear."

Tom glanced over at the couple beside them, realizing that they'd been awfully quiet in the past few moments. "Don't worry," he whispered into his wife's ear. "I think they have their own fantasies."

She turned her head and followed Tom's gaze. Kathryn and Chakotay were wrapped in each other's arms, tenderly kissing, completely oblivious to the younger couple beside them.

B'Elanna pressed her face into Tom's chest and giggled softly, then looked up when Tom touched his fingers to her chin.

"When in Rome…" he whispered, and lowered his lips to hers.

~vVv~


	48. Chapter 48

They didn't stay for gin. Kathryn claimed she was no match for Reg, and Chakotay tried, and failed, to suppress an ill-timed yawn while complimenting Julia and Owen on a delightful evening and a wonderful meal.

When he mumbled an apology, Julia just smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. "No apologies necessary, Commander. It is getting late, and you need your rest." She leaned toward Kathryn and gave her a hug. "Take him home and take care of him," she said.

And Kathryn nodded. "That's the plan."

Chakotay felt his cheeks grow warm and he just shook his head; he didn't like being the center of concern, no matter how well-placed. Owen clapped him on the shoulder. "Enjoy the attention while you can get it," he laughed. "Soon enough, if Kathryn's anything like my wife, she'll have you fixing things around the house."

Julia rolled her eyes. "Which you only fix halfway." She sighed. "Unless it's a warp core about to breach, I'm afraid most of my family is useless when it comes to fixing things."

"Hey," Tom looked up from the cards in his hand, "I fixed your replicator last weekend."

Julia smiled back at her son. "Yes, dear, you did." Then she leaned toward Kathryn. "That was on Saturday. On Monday, I called a technician."

"And that was on my advice," Owen added, then glanced toward Chakotay. "Learn to delegate. Best skill you'll ever develop."

"He may need some work on that one," Kathryn replied, linking her arm in Chakotay's and leaning against his shoulder. "On _Voyager_, he tended to take on too much of the responsibility."

Owen nodded. "Most first officers do. That's what makes them so damn good and indispensable at their jobs." He smiled over at Kathryn. "He probably did it all and made it look easy on top of that."

Kathryn smiled. "He did." Chakotay started to say something, but Kathryn continued. "And before he denies it, I think we'd better head home." She reached over and squeezed Julia's hand. "Thanks again for a lovely evening."

"You're more than welcome. Let's meet for lunch when you get back from all your trips."

"Let's do," Kathryn returned. "Goodnight, everyone." She waved to the group still seated around the card tables, then, taking Chakotay firmly by the arm, she stepped out the door onto the front porch.

"Goodnight," Chakotay echoed and followed her. The door closed gently behind them.

She glanced over at him. "I can call for a site-to-site."

He shook his head. "I can make it to the transporter station." It was only a block away, and he'd managed it just fine earlier in the evening on the way over.

Kathryn's grip on his arm tightened slightly. "But you're tired."

He sighed. "Not that tired. Come on." He headed down the front steps, pulling her along with him. "Besides," he added, looking up at the night sky, "it's beautiful out here."

Kathryn shivered next to him, pulling her coat around her. "Beautiful and cold," she clarified, pressing close to him as he draped his arm over her shoulder.

"But look at those stars." He smiled up at them. "Diamonds on black velvet."

She followed his gaze as they reached the sidewalk and turned left toward the station. "They are beautiful."

"Do you miss them?"

She knew what he was really asking. Did she miss being among them – being on _Voyager_?

"Sometimes," she answered honestly, as they walked along. His arm around her shoulder was equal parts warmth and support, for she could feel his weight on her, growing a little heavier with every step. She should have insisted on a site-to-site, but it had been such a nice evening, she didn't want to end it with an argument. Why were men so stubborn? Still, she didn't say anything, just wrapped her arm more securely around his waist. "What about you? I've been off-world enough in the past few months, so I haven't been away from them as long. How does Anthropology and Xeno-Paleontology stack up against solar systems?"

"Probably just as interesting, but maybe not as breathtaking." He stopped and stared up at the stars again.

Kathryn leaned into him. "What were you and Tom up to?" she inquired, shifting the subject at hand.

"What?" He looked down into her upturned face.

"That's what I was asking. What were the two of you talking about?" She thought it might have something to do with the refit of _Voyager_. They hadn't discussed the topic in a while.

"When?"

She pressed her face into his chest, smiled, tried to keep from laughing. She knew he wasn't trying to evade her questions; he was truly confused. She looked back up. "When B'Elanna and I joined you on the patio, what were you and Tom discussing?"

"Oh." His eyebrows lifted. "You mean before our make-out session?"

She sighed and buried her head in his chest again. They had acted like teenagers on a double date, all four of them. She was just thankful that Owen hadn't found them. But Chakotay was right – she'd made out on the patio with half of her former command team. _That doesn't sound right._ And then she started giggling at her own thoughts.

Chakotay smiled down at her. "It was fun. We could do it again." He touched his fingers to her chin, lifted her face. "Probably be better without Tom and B'Elanna."

She pressed her lips together, controlled her laughter. "Yes, I'm sure it would be, but… You still haven't answered my question?"

Chakotay pursed his lips in thought. "Answering questions or kissing? Not a difficult choice." And he dipped his head toward hers.

Kathryn held up a hand, fingers to his lips. "Answer the question first. What were you talking about?"

And Chakotay sighed, then chuckled at the expression on her face. "We were just discussing travel plans for Thursday."

"To Indiana?"

He nodded. "I told Tom you'd want to arrange a site-to-site transport straight to your mother's front door."

Kathryn blinked. "That's exactly my plan."

And Chakotay smiled. "I knew that. So I asked Tom to help me with another plan."

Kathryn drew her head back a little, looked at him appraisingly. "You don't like my plan?"

He grinned. "Not as much as I like mine."

And he started walking toward the station as he shared his travel ideas; Kathryn matched him step for step, listening intently. By the time they reached the station entrance, she was smiling. His plan did sound better than hers.

"Mom can meet us at the shuttleport in Bloomington."

Chakotay stopped, leaned heavily against his cane and just as heavily against Kathryn. "We can arrange for a hovercraft. I don't want to put her out."

"And deny her the pleasure of taking her old ground car for a spin?" Kathryn laughed. "Oh, no, she'll welcome the chance to get out on the road. The real question is…" She wrapped her arms around Chakotay, held him close. "Can you handle a car trip with my mother?"

He tilted his head to one side, smiled down at her. "Well, I'm handling life with her daughter just fine, so a car trip shouldn't be too much." He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.

"Just fine, huh?" She tightened her hold on him. "And just who's pulling all the weight right now?" she asked, feeling him sag against her body. "You shouldn't be so quick to refuse my offers of site-to-site transports. It's no shame to admit when you're tired."

Chakotay looked up at the entrance sign above the station door. "I made it this far. I'll make it all the way home." He leaned closer and kissed her lips this time, soft, gentle, a quiet exhalation of breath. "Besides… I'm not tired." She looked at him quizzically, even as she felt him settle more of his weight against her. And then his face creased into a dimpled smile. "Can I help it if you make me go weak in the knees?"

She would have laughed, but that would have prevented her from kissing him. _Laughing or kissing? Not a difficult choice._

~vVv~


	49. Chapter 49

The next few days were full, and busy, and close, and warm; Kathryn loved making a home with him, living each second, taking each moment as it came – in some ways, it reminded her of their time on New Earth, except there were other people around, and work, and responsibilities. But it wasn't _Voyager_. Oh, the closeness was there – seeing him every day like she had on the ship. But there was no command structure, no protocols to follow, no rules that got in their way. They relaxed into each other, reveled in their freedom, and got ready for their trips to Indiana and Dorvan by getting to know each other's families. They pulled out all their pictures, spent their evenings telling stories – some of the same things they'd done in their seven years in the Delta Quadrant, only now there were more family members to tell about.

They both had a niece and a nephew, and except for Ellie, none of them had been born before they'd been pulled to the other side of the galaxy.

"And she was barely six months old when I left," Kathryn said, pulling up a picture of her and her niece. "That was taken the week before I left on our mission."

Chakotay leaned into her shoulder, his head against hers. "And would that be the mission to find the terrible Maquis and bring them home to justice?"

She sighed and dug her elbow into his ribs. "Yes – that would be the mission. Didn't quite turn out the way I had planned."

He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. "Turned out a hell of a lot better."

"Yes, it did," she agreed, touching the padd and moving on to the next picture. "And here's another one of Cooper."

Chakotay grinned. "Where'd he get all that curly red hair?"

And Kathryn smiled. "From Phoebe. You've seen her. Her hair is redder than mine."

Chakotay reached up and gently fingered the soft strands. "Yours still glows when the light hits it just right."

"If grey glows, you're right on that," she sighed.

He nuzzled her cheek again, moved lower to her neck. "Grey is very distinguished these days."

And Kathryn laughed, pulling away from him slightly. "Distinguished? You make me sound like an elderly male statesman." She ran a hand along his cheek and through his hair. "You, my dear, are going 'distinguished.' I'm just going grey."

Chakotay pulled her closer as she moved to the next picture. "Ah, Mrs. Janeway," he stated, taking in the older woman's features. He could see Kathryn in her – the eyes, the smile.

"Don't call her Mrs. Janeway," Kathryn warned.

"It's a little early to start calling her Mom," he countered.

"Just try Gretchen. It's the first thing she'll tell you anyway. She always says that Mrs. Janeway reminds her of my grandmother."

"Did she get along with your grandmother?"

"Oh, yes, they were good friends, but she's always said that being called Mrs. Janeway was much too formal."

Chakotay chuckled. "She was married to a Starfleet admiral, and her daughter's a decorated captain. Seems like she'd get used to formal."

"Oh, she got used to it. She just never liked it."

Kathryn reached over and touched the padd in Chakotay's hand, drawing up the next picture that he had on the display. "Calusa?" she queried.

And he nodded. "Calusa at three."

Kathryn sighed. "She's beautiful. Those eyes…"

"Are mirror images of her mother's… and her grandmother's."

She looked up at him. "Your mother?"

Chakotay nodded. "They looked a lot alike."

Kathryn touched the padd and went to the next picture – Sekaya and her husband. "You and Sekaya look so much alike."

"That's what everyone says. When we were younger, they thought we were twins." He smiled. "In a way, we were. From the time she could walk, we did everything together – playing, hiking, swimming – right up until the day I left for Starfleet Academy." The last words were low, almost regretful.

"She wasn't in favor of you entering the Academy?" He'd never alluded to that before.

He shook his head. "Oh, she wasn't against it – I think she just didn't want me to leave." He lowered his eyes. "Everything changed so much after that. And when the attack on our planet came, and I wasn't there… I'm not sure if she's ever forgiven me."

"Chakotay." Kathryn turned slightly, moving her arms around him, pressing her hands into his back. "Sekaya loves you – she doesn't hold that against you."

He sighed. "I know. You're right." He bit nervously on his lower lip for a moment, and then exhaled. "I hold that against me."

"Oh, Chakotay," Kathryn murmured, lifting one hand to his face, fingers tracing softly over his tattoo. "If you'd known, you would have been there. You left Starfleet to defend your family and your home."

He nodded. Kathryn was right – but still, it often felt like too little too late.

Before he had a chance to slip lower into his regret, Kathryn wisely moved on to the next picture – Paka. You had to smile at the joyful expression on the toddler's face – all of three and a half and not a regretful bone in his body – pure happiness and delight.

He heard Kathryn draw in a breath, then let it go slowly – a gentle sigh.

"What?" he whispered, moving his lips closer to her ear and neck again.

"Just thinking – wishing maybe."

"About?" he pushed further, suspecting the reason behind her reaction – wondering if she were thinking the same thing he was.

"If we…" Kathryn swallowed around a sudden lump in her throat, but she pressed on. "If we ever had a child… a little boy… he'd look just like that…" She turned her eyes toward him. "Don't you think?"

And Chakotay just nodded, not quite trusting his voice, already feeling tears in his eyes – tears that matched the ones in Kathryn's. Finally, he drew in a breath and spoke. "It's not too late."

And she smiled, pressed her head to his shoulder, her face to his neck, kissing that spot below his chin. "Never too late," she agreed before his lips met hers.

~vVv~


	50. Chapter 50

"Tom's expecting us at 0900," Chakotay announced, leaning his head into the bedroom doorway. "Aren't you finished packing?"

Kathryn looked up from the open suitcase on the bed. "Almost."

"What's taking so long?" he questioned, stepping over to the bed and looking down at the stacks of clothing.

She frowned at him. "Well, I was going to pack yesterday, but someone was up late last night."

"And this morning," he added with a mischievous grin.

She glared at him.

"Sorry," he said meekly.

And Kathryn sighed, reaching out and touching a hand to his chest. "I'm not." They'd had a wonderful evening and an equally wonderful repeat performance earlier in the morning. "But it did put me behind on my packing."

Chakotay scanned the items spread out on the bed. "Kathryn, we're only going for a long weekend. Do you really need all of this?"

"I don't want to forget anything."

"Your mother has a replicator, doesn't she? And besides, it's Bloomington, not an isolated planet in the Delta Quadrant."

She smiled softly at him for a moment, thinking of a certain isolated planet in the Delta Quadrant, knowing that he was thinking of it, too. Then her mouth pressed into a thin line. "I want to make sure I'm taking everything I need."

His smile broadened. "You're taking me, aren't you?"

And she rolled her eyes, this time slapping him on the shoulder. "Oh, you are getting cocky," she accused. "And don't you dare say it," she added when he started to respond to her wording.

"What?" he asked innocently, although his eyes were alight with unspoken innuendos.

"Leave," she commanded, turning his body and pushing him out of the room. "I'll be down in a few minutes."

"I'll be waiting," he called back over his shoulder as he left. "By the front door. With my already packed suitcase."

"Just keep walking."

"That's been packed since before breakfast!"

~vVv~

Tom was waiting for them at the Academy shuttleport when they arrived. "Only a few minutes late," Kathryn declared before Chakotay could tease her about it.

But he was determined to get the last word. "Yeah, something came up." And he shot an infuriating grin at Tom and narrowly avoided the slap that Kathryn aimed at his shoulder.

Tom took Kathryn's suitcase from her and stepped toward the shuttle's open hatch. "Not even going to ask," he responded. "Besides, you're not that late, Captain."

And Kathryn shook her head. "I'm not your captain anymore, Tom," she sighed, following him into the shuttle with Chakotay close behind her.

"You'll always be my captain," he smiled back over his shoulder as he stowed the suitcase in an overhead compartment.

"And what about me?" Chakotay inquired as he transferred his suitcase into Tom's hands.

"Your life will always be mine," Tom snorted. "Whether I want it or not."

"Thanks," Chakotay gave a half laugh. "I'll try not to almost die again anytime soon."

"Well, let's hope not on this trip anyway," Kathryn smiled, rubbing her hand over his shoulder and then taking a seat in the front.

Chakotay settled into the seat just behind her while Tom secured the hatch, then made his way to the pilot's seat.

"Here." Tom handed Kathryn a small picnic basket. "Compliments of Paris Tour Guide Services. We aim to please."

Kathryn opened the basket and drew out a bottle. "Chateau Picard," she read the label. "2371?"

"The year we got stranded in the Delta Quadrant," Chakotay observed, taking the bottle from Kathryn and turning it over in his hands. "An excellent year for wine – not so much for starships."

"Tom…" Kathryn looked at him critically as he started silently running through his pre-flight checklist. "This must have cost you-"

"A week's pay," he completed, then smiled. "Actually, it's a gift from my dad. And don't tell him I told you, but he's re-gifting. He got a case from Captain Picard for Christmas last year." He grinned over at Kathryn. "But, hey, it's the thought that counts."

"Yes, it is. And it's very thoughtful. Tell him thank you."

"All part of the service, ma'am," Tom drawled. "There's a corkscrew in the basket."

Chakotay chuckled even as he dug into the basket looking for it. "It's not even noon yet. We can't start drinking already."

"Well, I can't," Tom agreed, "but there's nothing keeping you two from enjoying. So sit back, relax. There's crackers and cheese in there, too."

And Kathryn leaned back in her seat and smiled while she watched Chakotay fumble with the corkscrew.

~vVv~

By the time she'd started her first glass of wine and cut into the brie, Tom was flying low over the Sierra Madre Mountains, skirting expertly around the sheer cliffs and rock faces. The snowcapped peaks and heavily wooded hillsides shown crisply in the morning sun, and Kathryn watched as a hawk glided peacefully in the high blue sky.

"Thanks to conservationist efforts, the hawk population has doubled in the past few years," Chakotay observed, leaning over Kathryn's shoulder and following her gaze.

"I've always loved watching hawks fly," she sighed. "They're so graceful and majestic."

"Like little feathered starships," Tom agreed.

And both Kathryn and Chakotay cast him amused looks.

"What?" he shrugged. "They are. Look at it. It's like a miniature _Voyager_."

And Chakotay just laughed while Kathryn shook her head and took another sip of her wine.

They flew across the sparkling blue expanse of Lake Tahoe, and then over the Grand Canyon.

Kathryn gazed down at the vastness. "I remember when I was about ten my dad took me camping here. We rode burros to the bottom of the canyon."

Chakotay smiled at the image of a ten-year-old Kathryn sitting atop a burro as it made its way down a steep canyon trail. "I'm sure you hated every minute of it," he teased, leaning in close over her shoulder, remembering the stories she'd shared on New Earth and her feelings toward camping.

"Actually, I enjoyed that trip. I hadn't started studying quantum mechanics yet, and I've always liked animals. I was so proud that I had my own burro; Phoebe had to ride with my father."

Chakotay chuckled. "Your own burro, your own starship – a natural born leader."

"Well, I don't know about that. As I recall, I wasn't much of a rider. My burro was stubborn and half the time I couldn't get him to move." She took another sip of her wine, and then laughed that smoky laugh that Chakotay loved so much. "At one point, I got off and had a long talk with that animal."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Like being called into the ready room."

And Kathryn cast an amused glance in his direction. "Something like that. Let's just say we came to an understanding."

And Chakotay grinned, thinking about all those times she'd called him into her ready room and all those understandings at which they'd arrived. She always had the last word.

"I haven't ridden a burro since that summer."

"Well, we have burros on Dorvan. Maybe we could take a little trail ride one afternoon. I'm sure Calusa and Paka would love it."

Kathryn swiveled in her seat and stared back at him. "If you think I'm letting you on a burro while you're still in that brace, you have another think coming."

And he frowned slightly at her overprotectiveness. "Kathryn, I think I can handle a burro – at least once I'm on it."

"It's the getting on it that worries me," she sighed. "Let's just keep both your feet securely on the ground for the next few weeks. Then we'll consider burro riding."

They heard Tom stifle a choked laugh, and Chakotay glared over at him. "Did you have something to say, Lieutenant?" he inquired, using his best command voice.

And Tom shook his head, trying to keep a straight face. "No, sir, Commander. Just…flying the shuttle." He reached over and laid in a course change. "And imagining that future burro excursion," he said, low under his breath.

Chakotay chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "If you're good, maybe we'll invite you."

Tom smiled. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

~vVv~

An hour later, Tom made contact with the Bloomington flight control, then nosed the shuttle down toward the shuttleport. It had been a delightful trip – the scenery had been rich and vibrant and soothing – the patchwork landscape of North America a welcome sight after seven long years in the Delta Quadrant.

"I should have done this months ago," Kathryn said as they touched down in Indiana. "I've spent too much time either off-world or taking site-to-site transports. We spent so much time and effort getting back, and I haven't taken the time to truly appreciate what we've come home to."

"Neither have I," Chakotay agreed. "You know, I haven't watched the sun rise over an Arizona desert or taken a swim in the Gulf of Mexico yet."

Kathryn gazed over at him, her mind grasping at a memory, and then capturing it. The ready room. Their conversation about the 37's, her concern about whether the crew would want to stay on that Earthlike planet, and his unwavering support.

She reached over and took hold of his hand. "After we get back from Dorvan, we'll plan a trip to Arizona, and maybe the Gulf of Mexico next summer."

Chakotay smiled and squeezed her fingers. "Sounds like a good plan."

"All right." Smiling at their conversation, Tom stepped past them and opened the overhead compartments, took down their suitcases. "All future trips can be booked through my scheduling department. We offer excellent deals for returning customers."

"Thank you," Kathryn offered as she stood, then leaned over and kissed Tom's cheek.

"Can't get any better deal than free," Chakotay added, pushing himself up from his seat and moving closer to the younger man.

"You're not going to kiss me are you?" Tom pulled back slightly, a teasing grin crossing his face.

"No," Chakotay sighed, reaching for one of the suitcases with his left hand. "I'm not quite as demonstrative as Kathryn."

Tom snorted. "Thank goodness." He motioned his head toward the hatch. "Go on. I've got the suitcases. Just concentrate on where you're going. One misstep and you may never ride a burro again."

~vVv~


	51. Chapter 51

Gretchen Janeway hugged her daughter, and Chakotay, and then Tom before insisting on carrying both suitcases.

"I can take them to the car," Tom offered.

"So can I," Gretchen replied pulling the cases from his hands. "As much as I like seeing you Tom Paris, I know you have cadets waiting for you back in San Francisco. Now say hello to your parents for me." And she kissed him on the cheek, turned, and headed toward the terminal's exit. "Let's get going," she called back over her shoulder. "It's past lunchtime."

Kathryn marched off beside her mother, and Tom and Chakotay just grinned at each other.

"Apple doesn't fall far from the tree," Chakotay laughed.

And Tom clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Good luck keeping up with them."

"Thanks," he sighed, seeing that they were already halfway across the terminal. "I think I'll need it."

He followed after them, mindful of his cane and the people bustling around him. For noon on a Thursday, the Bloomington shuttleport was fairly busy – families, college students, businesspeople coming and going. He looked around, wondering if anyone had recognized Kathryn. They did sometimes – her more than him. But after the newsvids and numerous interviews, they'd all been in the spotlight those first few weeks after their return. Today, though, no one seemed to take notice at all. Civilian clothing probably helped, he decided, glancing down at his jeans, striped shirt, and brown jacket. He looked ahead to the terminal's exit where the two women had stopped to wait for him. Kathryn was beautiful in her long blue skirt and cream sweater. And Gretchen was equally attractive. He wondered why half the terminal wasn't staring at them as he was.

He saw Kathryn shake her head and hurry back to him.

"I'm sorry," she frowned slightly, taking hold of his arm. "We didn't mean to leave you behind. But you're going to have to keep walking."

Chakotay blinked and looked around, not realizing he'd stopped. He felt his cheeks flush. "I got distracted," he smiled, leaning into her as her arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"So did I," Kathryn laughed as they moved toward Gretchen. "Old habits. When Mom says get going, I go."

They waited with the suitcases outside the terminal doors while Gretchen went to get the car. Chakotay gave a low whistle when she pulled up in a classic ground terrain vehicle – olive green, square, boxy, adaptable to all climates and topographies.

Kathryn chuckled at his reaction. "It's almost twenty years old," she said. "A 2359 Gordon SJX."

"I've seen pictures." Chakotay reached out and ran his hand along the side of the vehicle. It was clean and sparkling, not a scratch on it.

"It's her third child," Kathryn added, "or maybe her first grandchild. I think she treats it better than me and Phoebe."

"Don't you listen to her," Gretchen cautioned, coming around the side and picking up one of the suitcases. Chakotay moved toward the other one. "And don't you pick that up. I've got them."

She stowed the suitcases in the trunk while they climbed in – Kathryn in the front seat, Chakotay in the back.

"The girls used to call shotgun," Gretchen smiled back at Chakotay as she settled herself in the driver's seat.

"Well, Kathryn is your best bet for a co-pilot. My track record with shuttles isn't too good."

"And I wasn't going to say anything about you and shuttles." Kathryn gazed back over her shoulder at him, smiling softly. "If you'd rather sit in the front…"

"Oh, no, I'm just fine back here. Gives me room to spread out," he assured, angling his body slightly and lifting his left leg partially onto the seat.

Kathryn saw him wince, and she reached her hand over the seat. He squeezed her fingers, shook his head; he was fine.

"Well, settle in, both of you," Gretchen instructed as she attached her safety belt. "We'll be home in about an hour. Chakotay, I think you'll like the scenery – lots of good farmland."

"And cows," Kathryn added. "Lots of cows."

~vVv~

They were both right. The scenery was beautiful – green fields, golden rows of corn, and pastures dotted with black and white cows. At first, the two women included him in the conversation, pointing out landmarks and offering interesting historical information, but soon their talk turned to bits and pieces of family news, minutia that Chakotay knew little about and had difficulty following. He let his mind drift along with the passing view, and soon his eyes slipped closed. It wasn't until she heard the sound of his deeper breathing that Kathryn turned to see that he was asleep.

She smiled over at her mother. "He still tires easily – although he usually claims that he's just resting his eyes."

The fact that he didn't respond to her words further confirmed the fact that he'd fallen asleep.

"He looks good, sounds good – how's his memory?" Gretchen asked quietly.

"Almost back to normal – sometimes he'll forget a word, have to search for it, but he usually finds it – or I find it for him. That's when he accuses me of putting words in his mouth!" Kathryn laughed softly, gazed back over the seat, then looked back at her mother. "Mom?" her voice dropped lower.

"Um?"

"Is this how much you loved Dad? When your heart is so full, and you can't imagine being without him – ever?"

Gretchen smiled. These were emotional words coming from her science-minded eldest daughter – words she'd never heard before. She reached over and took Kathryn's hand in hers. "Sounds about right," she agreed.

She felt Kathryn's fingers tighten around hers. "It scares me, Mom, and at the same time…"

"You can't imagine feeling any other way?"

Kathryn nodded.

"Don't analyze it too much, Katie. Just… love him."

~vVv~


	52. Chapter 52

And loving him wasn't hard to do – even when he was being maddeningly difficult and wickedly funny all at the same time.

His eyes had blinked open just before they reached the house, so Kathryn didn't have to wake him – although she did touch her fingers to the corner of his lips and edge of his chin as he was getting out of the back seat, wiping away a touch of wetness caused by sleeping with his mouth half open. He grimaced slightly, realizing that he'd dropped off and knowing that she knew. She simply cupped his cheek in her hand and gave him a quick kiss before leading him up the porch steps and into the entry hall.

Gretchen stopped beside them, still insisting on carrying both suitcases. "I thought you might want the downstairs guestroom," she nodded down the central hall past the staircase and then looked back at Chakotay. "Kathryn's old room is upstairs, but there are an awful lot of stairs to climb."

Chakotay grinned slyly over at Kathryn, then turned the dimples toward her mother. "Actually, I'm quite adept at climbing stairs. I've been told it's one of my greatest talents."

"Well, if you want to tackle the staircase…"

Kathryn glared over at him, her lips pressing into a thin line, trying not to laugh at his adolescent cheekiness. "No, Mom, the guestroom will be fine." Her gaze hardened even more. "We'll save the stairs for therapy. It'll be a good work out."

Chakotay nodded, his expression exasperatingly neutral. "Yes, climbing stairs is always a good workout. Maybe we can climb some after lunch."

Kathryn could see that his eyes were alight with humor, but, thankfully, her mother hadn't picked up on the double meaning of his words. She headed off down the hall toward the guestroom. "Well, you're welcome to climb them anytime, although I'm afraid your only reward will be Kathryn's old bedroom – it's still filled with books and tennis trophies." She went into the guestroom and set the suitcases next to the bed. "I haven't changed a thing in that room since she left for the Academy."

Chakotay sank onto the edge of the bed and smiled over at Kathryn who was still standing in the doorway. "It'll be like going back in time – the girlhood of Kathryn Janeway."

And Kathryn sighed. "That may be against the temporal prime directive."

"And we never break the temporal prime directive," Chakotay shook his head solemnly.

"I'm sure you don't," Gretchen agreed with a nod. "But speaking of temporal matters, lunch will be ready in about fifteen minutes. That'll give you time to get settled in." She squeezed Kathryn's arm as she passed by her and went down the hall to the kitchen. "If you need anything, just holler."

"Thanks, Mom," Kathryn called over her shoulder, then turned and leveled her eyes on the man sitting on the bed. "Adept at climbing stairs? One of your greatest talents?"

Chakotay shrugged, spreading his hands out in front of him. "What was I supposed to say?" he asked innocently. "It's the truth. Scott told me just the other day that my stair-climbing abilities were excellent, and I seem to recall that the woman I've been living with agrees."

Kathryn swung the door closed behind her and advanced toward him. "Oh, you are asking for it, mister."

Chakotay flashed his dimples at her just as she reached him, her hands pushing against his shoulders and causing him to fall back on the bed. "I thought that was implied," he grinned, as she climbed on the bed beside him, her arms and legs tangling with his. She kissed him, and he readily responded, the kiss deepening for several long moments before they pulled apart. "We're supposed to be… settling in," he breathed.

Kathryn pressed closer, her hand running along the collar of his shirt, fingers warm on the skin of his neck and chest – two could play at this game. "I am settling in," she sighed, kissing the cleft in his chin, then nuzzling under his ear, her actions both playful and predatory.

She felt him shift beneath her, her thigh registering the affect she was having on him. "But… you heard what your mom said – lunch in fifteen minutes."

Kathryn pulled back slightly, propped her head on her hand and gazed down at him. His breathing had increased and a fine sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead, causing the lines of his tattoo to appear even darker against his skin. "Be careful what you ask for, Commander – especially if there's not enough time to open the present."

He drew in a deep breath and nodded. "Point to Kathryn Janeway," he conceded.

And she grinned triumphantly.

"This time," he added.

"Really?" she arched an eyebrow at him. "And just who has all those tennis trophies upstairs?"

He pursed his lips in thought. "I don't know. I haven't seen them yet."

"Oh, you will. You just have to climb the stairs." And she leaned over and kissed him again.

~vVv~


	53. Chapter 53

And they did climb the stairs right after lunch – all sixteen of them. Kathryn stood close behind him as he took each step, her body pressed against his back, giving him added support as he gripped the railing and pulled his left leg up, setting his foot on the next stair.

"When I suggested climbing the stairs after lunch, I was speaking figuratively," Chakotay mumbled over his shoulder, his voice low in deference to Gretchen who was down the hall clearing up after their meal.

"Yes, I know," Kathryn hummed back, her chin propped against his shoulder blade, her hands resting lightly on his hips. "But I assured Scott, Sam, and the Doctor that we'd continue with your therapy, and, as you informed my mother, stair climbing is a good workout."

"And when we get to the top?" he questioned, taking another step.

"You get to see my trophies," Kathryn breathed in his ear.

And Chakotay laughed out loud and held firmly to the railing, almost losing his balance. Her double entendres were getting almost as good as his.

"Well, this must not be too strenuous. It sounds like you're having a good time." Gretchen appeared at the foot of the stairs.

"It's either laugh or cry," Chakotay called over his shoulder. "Your daughter's a real taskmaster."

Gretchen shook her head. "Oh, I know that. I'd tell her to go easy on you, but, after seven years in the Delta Quadrant, I have a feeling you can take whatever she dishes out."

"Why are you assuming that I'm giving him a hard time?" Kathryn enquired, nudging his back and pushing him up another step.

"Because I know you," her mother answered, reaching for her coat that hung on the rack by the door. "Now, I'm on my way to the farmer's market to get some things for dinner tonight. I'll probably be gone a couple of hours. Is there anything you need before I go?"

"We'll be fine, Mom," Kathryn assured her.

"There are some more cookies in the kitchen, and I'm making chocolate caramel brownies for supper tonight. Phoebe will be here after work with the kids, but I should be back before then."

"All right."

"I've got my cell-com if you need to call."

"Mom," Kathryn stared back over her shoulder, "like you said - we both made it home from the Delta Quadrant. We'll be fine."

"I'm just trying to be a good hostess," Gretchen smiled up at her as she took her purse off the entry hall table and opened the front door.

Kathryn sighed softly. "You're the best. We'll see you later."

And Gretchen left, the door closing softly behind her.

Kathryn returned her attention to the task at hand. "Keep going." She nudged him again.

He moved his hand higher on the railing, tightened his hold and took another step. Kathryn moved up with him.

"You really going to catch me if I fall?"

"That's the plan."

Another push against his back. Another step.

The next few minutes were quiet as he continued up the stairs; the only sound was his breathing as it increased with every step, growing deeper, but not labored. He felt her hand move up his back, rubbing gently over his shoulders, silent encouragement and support.

He took another step and another – the summit now in sight. Finally, he planted his cane on the second floor landing and stood, somewhat proudly, at the top. He drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, looked back down the staircase.

"Bit of a mountain, isn't it?" Kathryn observed.

"Just a bit," he agreed, taking another deep breath, then looking around the upstairs hall. "So, which room is yours?"

Kathryn glanced past the railing, toward the front of the house. "Second door on the left."

"The holy grail," Chakotay grinned slyly at her and headed toward it.

"Probably a holy mess," she shot back, following him. "Mom wasn't kidding when she said she hasn't changed a thing in that room!"

Chakotay reached the door and pushed it open, peered inside. The room was indeed filled with tennis trophies and books; they lined the shelves and the tops of the desk and dresser. An antique brass bed, covered in a patchwork quilt, stood in the middle of the room. There was a wicker rocker in one corner and a low window seat along one wall. Chakotay stepped inside, turned around slowly, taking it in – his mind imagining a teen-aged Kathryn spending her days in this room – reading, studying, making plans – dreaming.

"I'll bet you sat in that window seat and read," he smiled back over his shoulder to where she leaned in the doorway.

"All the time – reading, gazing at the moon." She crossed the room and stopped at the window, drew back the curtain. "At night, I'd turn off all the lights and just sit and watch the stars, pretending I was up there."

Chakotay moved closer to her, placed a hand on her shoulder. "I guess you never imagined just how many of those stars you'd actually visit."

"Well, I can assure you, I never imagined being stranded in the Delta Quadrant!"

He gave her a soft smile, reached up and touched her face with the back of his hand. "What did you imagine?"

She returned his smile, nuzzled against him, his hand turning and cupping her cheek in his palm. "Having my own ship… discovering new places and people… exploring."

"Sounds like the Delta Quadrant gave you all that," he breathed, his thumb rubbing gently against soft skin.

"And more," Kathryn agreed, touching her fingers to his forehead, tracing over the lines of his tattoo. Then her face settled into a firm expression. "Now out of those pants and onto the floor."

Chakotay gave a snort of laughter and stepped back, his hand falling away from her face even as she drew her fingers away from his. "Kathryn!" He feigned mock indignation.

"Therapy, Chakotay," she qualified, stepping over to the bed and taking an old blanket that hung over the footboard; she spread it across the braided rug on the floor. "At least three sets of leg crunches and some range of motion exercises; I promised Scott."

Chakotay sighed and leaned against the bed, tugged at the button on his jeans. "Taskmaster," he accused, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Sticks and stones," she laughed, covering his hands with hers and unfastening his jeans, helping him push them down over his hips and thighs, knees and calves. Then she knelt and removed his shoes so he could step out of the pants and she could undo his brace, set it to one side.

She held his arm as he stepped over to the blanket and lowered himself onto the floor. He settled, flat on his back, staring up at her. And she smiled at the image: striped shirt, plaid boxers, slightly irritated look on his face.

She knelt in front of him, lifted his leg, holding the heel of his foot against her palm. She pushed it into a 45 degree angle, then further toward his body, then straightened it. "Work on the resistance," she instructed, pushing his leg forward again.

Chakotay pressed back slightly, felt the tightening of his muscles down his left leg, a twinge of discomfort, but he was careful to keep his expression neutral – no need to worry Kathryn. Therapy wasn't supposed to be easy.

She pushed again; he resisted. They worked in silent tandem – ten reps, then she lowered his leg, let him rest a few minutes, drawing in deep breaths, letting them out slowly. She massaged his lower leg, then moved her hands higher onto his thigh.

He moaned low in his throat. "Umm, feels good."

Kathryn smiled. "Don't enjoy it too much. You have twenty more to go." And she raised his leg, began again.

Another set, a few minutes of rest, and then a final set. By the last rep, his forehead was covered in perspiration and his breathing had increased. Kathryn took her time kneading the muscles in his leg, her fingers smoothing over his skin. She switched to the right leg, giving it some attention as well, massaging deeply. She heard him sigh, and looked up to see that his eyes were closed.

"Hey, no sleeping on the job."

And he opened his eyes. "Who's working?"

She smiled. "Well, we both were for a while."

He reached up and grabbed hold of her hand, pulled her down onto the floor next to him. "If work's over, can we play now?" He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathed her in.

She giggled, pushed at him gently. "Chakotay…"

He kissed her cheek, then her lips. She returned the pressure, rolling half on top of him, her legs tangling with his. Then she pulled back slightly, and he gazed up at her, his fingers threading through her hair, pushing it back from her face.

She shook her head. "We're on the floor of my bedroom, Chakotay." And she braced a hand against his chest.

"My third favorite fantasy," he breathed, his fingers soft on her cheek.

"Third?"

He nodded.

And she sighed. "Don't tell me…"

"Ready room, then bridge."

She pressed her face into his chest. "Oh, Chakotay."

He heard her mumble his name, could feel her smile. He rubbed his hands down over her back, smoothing along her hips, cupping her buttocks, pulling her against him. He rolled over, taking her with him, braced himself on his elbows. He gazed down into her eyes. "I love you," he whispered, and then kissed her again.

~vVv~


	54. Chapter 54

Kathryn pressed closer to him, her head on his shoulder, her fingers tracing patterns on his bare chest. His shirt had been unbuttoned and pushed back; she'd lost her sweater, and her skirt and been hiked up around her waist. They were both still breathing heavily and she shivered in the cool air. His arm tightened around her, and she nuzzled her face into his neck.

"We're too old for this," she sighed, kissing the moist skin beneath his ear.

He shuddered at her actions. "Speak for yourself," he replied, and she felt a quiet laugh rumble through his chest.

"You know, I never…" Her words trailed off, but he knew.

"You never made love on your bedroom floor," he whispered, his tongue tracing the edge of her earlobe.

And she nodded, her head moving against his shoulder. "Justin and I were too scared – afraid one of my parents would walk in on us. And Mark… He never liked floors very much."

Chakotay smiled into her hair, kissed the top of her head. "He didn't know what he was missing."

And she laughed softly. "Severe back pain if we don't get up soon."

He ran his hand along her side, reaching under the folds of her skirt to touch the smooth skin of her thigh. "Oh, I don't know. I'm very comfortable right where I am. Besides, I earned this."

Kathryn leaned up slightly, propping her chin on his chest, her eyes gazing into his. "How so?"

He grinned. "I climbed the stairs."

"Yes, you did."

His grin broadened. "All sixteen of them."

And Kathryn laughed again, loudly this time, rolling away from him, onto her back. "Neither of us is that good," she gasped.

He quickly rolled over, half on top of her, his right leg thrown across her lower body, pinning her underneath. "You know what they say about practice?" And he pressed kisses to her neck, down across her collarbone, her chest, his fingers pulling at her bra, exposing one breast.

Kathryn held her hand to the back of his neck, guiding his head, her breath quickening, her heart beating faster. She ran her other hand down along his back, reaching lower, under the waistband of his boxers, feeling the firm muscles beneath her touch, exploring, kneading…

"Aunt Katie?!"

She froze.

A door slammed.

Footsteps pounded at the bottom of the stairs.

She pushed at Chakotay. "Someone's home," she breathed raggedly, pushing again when he didn't immediately move off her.

"What?" he mumbled, apparently not hearing the sounds outside the bedroom door.

This time she shoved him, rather unceremoniously, off her body and got to her feet, pulling her bra back into place, straightening her skirt, looking around for her sweater. In the process, she quickly stepped over to the door and locked it.

"Aunt Katie?!" The voice was closer this time, the footsteps nearing the top of the stairs.

She found her sweater on the floor next to Chakotay's jeans, and she picked up both articles of clothing, throwing the jeans to Chakotay. He was sitting up now, still a bit dazed, adjusting to the abrupt halt in their lovemaking.

"That sounds like Ellie," she whispered loudly in the silence of the room, pulling the cream-colored sweater over her head.

Chakotay began to pull his jeans on, lying back on the floor and lifting his hips to settle them around his waist; he buttoned them, but zipping was proving to be a problem at the moment. He sat back up and started on the buttons of his shirt.

"I thought they weren't going to be here until after your mother got home," he questioned, finishing off the last button and reaching out to Kathryn.

Taking his hand, she helped pull him to his feet, steadied him as he swayed, and then reached down and zipped up his jeans.

"They're early," he breathed in sharply at the feel of her hands on him.

"Apparently so." She retrieved his cane, stuck it in his right hand.

"Aunt Katie?"

The voice was outside the door now, and Kathryn ran a hand through her hair, glanced in the mirror above the dresser, and sighed. "Just a minute, Ellie." And she crossed to the door and opened it, smiling down at her niece. "We were finishing up with Chakotay's therapy," she explained, taking a step back, allowing the girl to see into the room. "You remember Chakotay from the homecoming banquet in San Francisco."

The girl smiled shyly over at him, and he smiled back, standing unsteadily in the middle of the rug leaning on his cane, feeling a bit like one of Kathryn's trophies on display.

Kathryn leaned over and hugged her niece, kissing her on the cheek. "Where are your mother and Cooper?" she asked.

Ellie looked up at her aunt. "In the kitchen. Cooper wanted cookies."

And Kathryn smiled. "Well, you'd better go get some before he eats them all. Tell your mother we'll be right down." She patted the girl on the back, sending her on her way, then closing the door and leaning against it, releasing a heavy sigh.

Chakotay ran a hand over his forehead, wiped away a fine sheen of perspiration. "I may not be too old for the floor, but I may be too old for interruptions."

Kathryn laughed, stepping over and wrapping her arms around him. "This from the man who successfully made it through the Delta Quadrant?"

He couldn't believe she was laughing – he expected her to be more worried about the situation.

She pressed a kiss against his neck, ran her hands along his back. "You know what they say – all's well that ends well."

He shifted uncomfortably in her embrace, whispered in her ear. "This didn't end as well as I was hoping."

"Later," she promised, giving him another kiss. "Now, let's put your brace on."

~vVv~


	55. Chapter 55

They reached the bottom of the stairs at the same time that Gretchen was coming in the front door, her arms filled with shopping bags.

"Don't tell me your sister's already here," she laughed, transferring two of the bags into Kathryn's hands, and refusing to give any to Chakotay although he held out his left hand. "I've got them," she insisted, much as she had done with the suitcases.

Kathryn saw a slightly exasperated look cross his face, but she silenced any possible rebuttal with a look of her own. She knew he hated being treated like an invalid, and carrying one grocery bag wasn't too difficult for him, but she also knew her mother – Chakotay was a guest, and a recuperating guest at that – Gretchen Janeway wasn't about to put him to work.

And at that moment, a small army of workers appeared anyway – literally small; Ellie and Cooper came running from the kitchen, grabbed the bags out of Kathryn's and Gretchen's hands, and retreated back down the hall, almost bumping into their mother. They looked back over their shoulders and giggled, glancing a bit nervously at Chakotay.

"Phoebes," Kathryn greeted her with an embrace. "You must have left work early."

"Work will always be there," the red-haired woman smiled. "But I don't get to see my big sister every day."

And Chakotay grinned at the use of the word "big;" Phoebe was at least three inches taller than her sister, tall and slender with the same blue-grey eyes and fair skin.

She reached out and took his hand. "Chakotay, it's so good to see you again. I'm sorry my children are lacking in manners and didn't say hello." She looked toward the kitchen. "I think they're being just a little shy. They'll warm up once they get to know you."

"Shy?" Kathryn laughed. "Then they must take after Jeff." She glanced over at Chakotay. "Phoebe doesn't have a shy bone in her body."

"Neither of my girls does," Gretchen agreed. "Now, why don't we all go have a seat in the kitchen while I start baking those brownies? It's getting close to teatime anyway," she added with a smile.

"Or coffee time, for Kathryn anyway," Phoebe said, companionably linking her arm through Chakotay's and walking him down the hall ahead of her sister and mother. "So tell me, did she drink coffee incessantly while on _Voyager_?"

"Well, now, incessantly does sound about right," Chakotay agreed.

And Kathryn rolled her eyes, seeing that Phoebe was doing what she always did – getting every one of her boyfriends on her side so they could gang up on her. She was just about to complain teasingly to her mother when she noticed Gretchen staring at Chakotay's retreating form.

"Mom?" she questioned.

"I don't remember him wearing that brace on the outside of his jeans," Gretchen observed, turning and giving her daughter a calculated look.

"It can go over or under," Kathryn replied succinctly.

Gretchen nodded. "Yes, I see that. I just thought it was under earlier in the day."

And Kathryn sighed. "It was. But he's supposed to exercise his leg on a daily basis, so while you were gone, we had a therapy session."

Another nod, accompanied by a sly grin. "I'm sure you did." And she laughed as she headed toward the kitchen, leaving Kathryn in the entry hall, her face flushing pink from her mother's words.

~vVv~

"Your aunt named him George," Chakotay said.

"And he was a monkey just like we have at the nature preserves?" Cooper asked, taking another bite of his chocolate chip cookie.

"Just like," Chakotay returned.

"All the way in the Delta Quadrant?" Ellie's tone held a note of doubt, and she shifted her gaze from Chakotay to her aunt.

And Chakotay laughed softly. "Well, you don't have to take my word for it, but… George looked just like an Earth monkey."

"But he was a New Earth monkey," Kathryn added, smiling over at Chakotay. He'd won the children over in a matter of minutes, sharing one Delta Quadrant adventure after another.

They were gathered around the kitchen table – the very center of the Janeway home, and, just as he'd done at lunch, Chakotay was sitting in the chair that Edward Janeway had always sat in. Of course, he didn't know that; he'd just chosen it, and it had nothing to do with being at the head of the table, for the table was round. And all the chairs were the same – it wasn't bigger or more imposing than any of the others. He'd just sat there, and it was becoming his chair. And Kathryn liked that.

"How long were you on New Earth?" Phoebe asked.

And Kathryn shot a glance at her – she knew full well how long they'd been on New Earth. They'd already discussed that story in detail the last time Kathryn had been home.

But Chakotay answered, gazing across the table at Kathryn. "Almost two months. And I regret to this day that we didn't get to see those Talaxian tomatoes grow."

"Talaxian tomatoes?" Cooper looked up from his cookie.

And Chakotay started to tell them about Neelix, and soon he was headed down the hall to the guest room to retrieve a data padd so the children could see a real picture of their former Talaxian chef and morale officer. Cooper and Ellie trailed after him.

"You never told me he was so good with kids," Phoebe said, taking a long sip of her tea, and arching her eyebrows at Kathryn.

And Kathryn rolled her eyes, immediately picking up on her sister's underlying intent. "We only had one kid on _Voyager_," Kathryn sighed, but then smiled at the memory. "He was good with Naomi. And he's adorable with Miral, Tom and B'Elanna's baby."

"Babies, too, huh?" Phoebe teased.

Kathryn groaned slightly. Sure, she and Chakotay had mentioned children just the other day, but she wasn't ready to think about it seriously yet, let alone discuss it with her sister and mother.

And so she tried to deflect the topic. "I'm forty-four, Phoebes. I don't think babies are in the future."

"Well, not too far in the future. But the near future…"

Kathryn looked back over her shoulder toward the stove where her mother was seasoning the soup and keeping her eye on several other pots and pans. "Mom?" she requested her assistance in warding off her sister.

But Gretchen turned around and joined right in. "Phoebe's right. You love him; he loves you. I know you've always wanted children. He seems to enjoy them. And neither of you are getting any younger."

"Mom!"

And Gretchen laid a hand on her shoulder, smoothing down the ruffled feathers. "Just don't run away from it, Katie."

"I'm not running away." She looked over at Phoebe, saw her doubtful expression. "I'm not. I haven't had time to even contemplate running away. You do remember that he was in the hospital for over two weeks, and he's only been home for about a week before we came here. Who's had time to run away?"

"But have you talked about it?" her mother questioned.

"What?"

Gretchen sat down in the chair beside her. "About getting married, starting a family."

"Mom!"

"All right." Gretchen raised her hands. "No more pressure."

Kathryn glanced at her sister. Phoebe shrugged. "Just don't let him get away."

And Kathryn smiled. "I don't think he's going anywhere."

~vVv~


	56. Chapter 56

Except out to play basketball.

"Basketball?" Kathryn stared at him from the screen door as he followed Cooper down the steps to the backyard.

"Basketball," he stated. "You know – round ball, orange, black stripes, goes through a hoop."

She gave him a slightly exasperated look. "I'm familiar with the basics – thanks. But do you really think this is a good idea?"

Chakotay held on to the railing as he lowered himself to a sitting position on one of the bottom steps. He looked back over his shoulder at Kathryn. "We're going to play Around the World – I think I can manage it. I'll just stand in one place, shoot the ball, hopefully get it through the hoop, and move a few meters to the next place." He undid the top strap of his brace, pulled it tighter, and fastened it back into place.

Cooper, who stood in front of him, reached out and touched his brace. "Can I help?" His eyes were bright with hero worship – Kathryn had seen it before – Naomi, Icheb, Mezoti, Rebi, Azan – they all looked up to Chakotay.

He grinned at the boy. "Thanks. I could use some help." And he loosened the strap near his knee and the one around his calf, then allowed Cooper to pull them back into place. "I need to make sure that I don't fall while I'm out there playing basketball."

"He's right," Kathryn agreed, rolling her eyes. "If he does fall, you catch him, Cooper."

"I will," Cooper beamed, proud to have such trust placed in him.

"I'll come get you if he falls, Aunt Katie," Ellie promised, scooting by her aunt on the way out the door with the basketball in her arms.

"I'll catch him!" Cooper insisted.

And Kathryn laughed. From behind her, she heard her mother, "Boys will be boys, Katie. Let them play."

"Jeff will be here soon," Phoebe added. "He'll pick the big guy up if he falls."

Kathryn turned back to the kitchen table and smiled over at her sister, wondering how she'd picked up on one of Chakotay's nicknames – she hadn't used it. "That's what Tom calls him – big guy."

"It's those broad shoulders and chest," Phoebe blushed slightly. "I don't know how you kept your hands off him all those years."

And Kathryn laughed softly. "According to Chakotay, I didn't – a hand on his shoulder, a pat on his chest. Apparently, my subconscious knew what it wanted even if I couldn't admit it."

"It's the uniform," Gretchen said, watching as Kathryn settled back into her chair. "Starfleet uniforms always make them look larger than life and irresistible all at the same time."

Kathryn and Phoebe smiled at each other; besides her girls, Edward Janeway had been the center of their mother's life. Oh, she'd been self-sufficient and had a rewarding career as a university instructor for over thirty years, but her Eddie had captured her heart at a young age and she'd been devoted to him. That's why she recognized it when she saw the same feelings in Kathryn – she loved Chakotay like she'd loved Edward.

"He wasn't wearing a Starfleet uniform when I first saw him," Kathryn pointed out.

Phoebe laughed. "Renegade Maquis – even better."

She shook her head. "I wasn't attracted from the very beginning."

And her sister just smiled. "You can keep telling yourself that, but you'd have to be blind not to be."

"All right," Kathryn sighed. "I'll admit. There was something about him – he was all… anger and bravado." She looked down at the table, folded her hands on top of it. "And since I'm being honest… we were all scared to death, underneath all our Starfleet training. We were suddenly on the other side of the galaxy, and…"

"Fate," her mother said softly.

Kathryn looked over at her.

Gretchen continued. "We never know what fate has planned for us. You went looking for an enemy of the Federation, and came back with-"

"The man I love."

~vVv~

The man she loved managed to play Around the World without falling. The reassuring sounds of the children's high-pitched laughter rang through the screen door, along with Chakotay's deep baritone. Fifteen minutes later, another voice joined the mix.

"That's Jeff," Phoebe said, looking up from the salad she was tossing.

Kathryn glanced out the door to see her brother-in-law tossing the basketball to his son. She could tell he'd come straight from work; he really did dress like a professor, with patches on the elbows of his coat. He taught history and world government at the university, and Kathryn was sure that he and Chakotay would have a lot to talk about. But right now, they were engaged in what looked to be a game of keep away, with Ellie running back and forth between them trying to snag the ball.

Kathryn pushed open the screen door and stepped out onto the small back porch. "No fair," she called out, watching as the ball sailed back over Ellie's head into Jeff's hands. "Three boys against one girl."

Chakotay grinned up at her. "You wanna even things up a bit?"

She heard the challenge in his voice, and she was down the steps in a split second, moving between them, grabbing the ball out of Jeff's grasp before he realized what she was doing. "You're on," she laughed, turning her back to him and dribbling the ball, changing the game of keep away into one-on-one.

"You've started something now," Phoebe groaned from the top of the steps, leaning against the open screen door. She smiled as Jeff moved up beside her, kissed her on the cheek. "Ellie, Cooper, come on in and get washed up for dinner. Let your Aunt Katie beat Chakotay at basketball."

"I wanna watch," Cooper complained, climbing up the steps anyway.

"Grandma made macaroni and cheese," Phoebe coaxed. "It's better when it's hot."

And that worked, for Cooper was heading through the door and down the hall toward the bathroom with Ellie close behind. Gretchen Janeway's macaroni and cheese was way better than watching two grownups play basketball.

But Phoebe hesitated, not as easily lured away by her own words, watching as the impromptu match played out before her – the chemistry between her sister and former first officer was palpable, almost mesmerizing. Kathryn maneuvered around him, keeping the ball easily out of his reach, teasing him with each turn, her back brushing against his sides. And Chakotay just stood there, leaning on his cane, smiling, enjoying the cat and mouse movements, the toss of her hair, the playfulness in her smile. She angled around him, and he reached out his left hand, grabbing for the ball, but she danced away, only to twist back around, her back to his, and then she drove into the goal, made a shot, hit the rim, and caught it on the bounce back. Still, Chakotay didn't move, just watched, waited for her to move back toward him, brushing in close.

Phoebe felt Jeff's hand on her arm, pulling her into the kitchen, away from the dance, and she went, leaving the two of them to their game.

Kathryn bumped against him, gently so as not to push him off balance, but teasingly, her backside to his. "You just gonna stand there?" she threw back over her shoulder.

He smiled. "That was the plan all along. Around the World, remember? Not a full body contact sort of game." And he felt her press into his side.

"So… I changed the parameters," Kathryn teased.

And Chakotay laughed, reaching out his hand again, but not for the ball this time. His fingers grazed over Kathryn's hip.

She hesitated for a moment, then pulled away, driving to the goal again, this time a perfect layup, the ball passing through the net and back down into her hands. She turned, surprised to find him right behind her.

"You moved," she gasped, her face to his chest.

"I didn't say I wouldn't," he defended his counterattack, his hand slapping the ball from her grasp before she realized what he was doing. His thick fingers easily manipulated it away from her, dribbled once, turned on his cane, and heaved it back up toward the goal. It went through.

"Even," he hissed, as he caught the rebound.

"Oh, no, you don't!" And Kathryn grabbed the ball from him, moved back out of his reach.

She slowed down for a moment, dribbling the ball in front of her, stared at him under the goal. They were both breathing a bit more heavily now, and she could see that his grip on his cane was tighter, knuckles whitening with the pressure.

She stopped dribbling, held the ball, took a step back. "You're not up to this, Chakotay," she murmured.

"Says who?" he shot back.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

He shook his head. "No one's getting hurt. It's just a game."

Still, she hesitated, saw his stance relax. And then she was dribbling toward the basket, shoulder lowered, angling around him, shooting and scoring, catching the ball as it came back down.

Chakotay grabbed her around the waist, pulled her in, kissed her. And she leaned into him, breathless, laughing, kissing all at the same time.

"I knew you were bluffing," he breathed, when they broke apart.

She dropped the basketball, pressed her hands against his cheeks, kissed him again, then pulled back, stared into his eyes. "I win," she proclaimed.

He shook his head, pulled her in closer, held her tight against his chest and stomach, brushed his fingers lightly through her hair. "No… I win." And he kissed her.

~vVv~

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and reviewing. I know this story just keeps going on and on, but I'm still not ready to bring it to a close. I'm just enjoying writing it too much! I want to thank Laura W. for giving me the idea of Kathryn and Chakotay playing basketball. It is Indiana, after all!


	57. Chapter 57

"I never knew," Kathryn commented from across the table, her gaze fixed on Chakotay.

He froze, mid-motion, the serving spoon poised in mid-air.

"You like macaroni and cheese as much as the kids do," she continued.

And he smiled, upturned the spoon, and let the pasta fall onto his plate. "Probably more," he admitted, winking over at Ellie and Cooper. "I'm bigger."

And the children giggled.

"Is that your third helping or fourth?"

He glared half teasingly at Kathryn before answering. "I believe it's only the third."

"You let him be," Gretchen scolded her daughter, reaching out and laying a reassuring hand on Chakotay's arm. "You just eat as much as you want. I made this meal for you."

He smiled at her. "Thank you. It's all wonderful - especially the macaroni and cheese."

"It's one of Mom's specialties," Phoebe added, then glanced over at her husband. "To this day, I'm not sure if Jeff married me or my mom's cooking."

"Both," Jeff announced, holding his hand out. "Could you pass that bowl to me?" he asked Chakotay, indicating the bowl of macaroni in front of him.

"Gladly," Chakotay responded, picking up the bowl and handing it over. Jeff served himself a liberal amount.

"Eat all you want," Gretchen encouraged, "but save room for dessert."

"Chocolate caramel brownies," Cooper piped up.

"With ice cream," Ellie added.

"Well, if it's as good as the macaroni and cheese, he'll have _four_ helpings," Kathryn laughed, watching as Chakotay shoveled into the golden-orange pasta. She glanced over at Jeff, who was digging into his serving as well. "Cooper and Ellie, between your dad and Chakotay, there may not be any brownies to go around."

A trace of worry lit Cooper's blue eyes, and Phoebe reassured him. "Don't you listen to Aunt Katie. She's just teasing. Grandma made enough brownies for everyone."

"Two dozen," Ellie announced. "I help cut them into squares."

"That's twenty-four brownies," Cooper figured out. "And there's one, two, three…" He pointed at each person sitting around the table. "…four, five, six…" He pointed at himself. "…seven of us."

"So how many brownies can each person have?" Jeff asked between bites of macaroni and cheese.

Cooper thought for a few seconds, his mouth twisting slightly in concentration. "Three," he answered, "with three left over."

"Very good, Cooper," Kathryn praised her nephew, then stared over at Chakotay. "So you could have that fourth helping if you sweet talk Mom."

And he grinned at her, swallowed his last bite of macaroni, set his fork on his plate, and wiped a napkin over his lips. "Sounds like a challenge, but I think one helping will do – especially after all this."

"Don't speak too soon, Chakotay," Phoebe warned. "You've never tasted Mom's chocolate caramel brownies."

"No, I haven't." He gazed over at Kathryn. "But my captain once made chocolate caramel brownies on _Voyager_."

And Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Like I said – you've never tasted Mom's."

Kathryn cringed slightly at the memory. Even using the replicator, she'd managed to burn them – although her dear first officer had eaten two and not complained at all.

"Phoebe's right. I can assure you Mom's brownies are much better than mine." She stood up and started to clear the dinner plates, hesitated as she reached for the bowl of macaroni, raised an eyebrow at Chakotay. "Is it safe to take this now?"

He nodded. "Perfectly safe."

Gretchen and Phoebe got up as well, started clearing bowls and plates and fixing new bowls of dessert. Ellie helped, using the ice cream scoop to deposit cold white mounds of vanilla ice cream on top of the moist brownies. She handed each bowl to Cooper and he delivered them.

"That one's for Chakotay. I gave him extra ice cream," she instructed her brother.

"I want extra ice cream, too," Jeff said to his daughter, feigning a hurt expression.

"I'm giving you extra ice cream, Dad," Ellie replied with a roll of her eyes that made Phoebe and Kathryn laugh. "I'm serving Chakotay first because he's a guest."

"Oh, I don't know. He might be a member of the family soon," Phoebe smiled over at her daughter, then cast a glance over her head toward her sister.

Kathryn glared back.

"Then he'll be just like the rest of us – plain and ordinary," Jeff laughed.

Kathryn looked over her shoulder at Chakotay.

He just grinned and took the bowl that Cooper handed him.

~vVv~

After dinner, Jeff and Phoebe herded the kids out to their hovercar, making plans for the next day as they went down the front porch steps.

"I've arranged a tour of the museum at ten o'clock," Phoebe said. "That's ten-hundred hours in Starfleet-speak," she added with a grin toward Kathryn.

"I can still tell time both ways," Kathryn assured with a laugh.

"So can I," Cooper smiled up at his aunt as he jumped down the steps two at a time.

"Then I thought we could eat at the Hoosier Café." Phoebe glanced toward Chakotay. "It's one of Kathryn's favorites."

"And you're welcome to sit in on my afternoon lecture," Jeff added. They'd talked for a while after supper about Jeff's classes, and, as Kathryn had suspected, Chakotay had been quite interested.

"Sounds great," he responded, and Kathryn nodded in agreement.

"I wanna eat at the Hoosier Café," Ellie said as she climbed into the back of the hovercar.

"Sorry – but you two have school," Phoebe answered as she opened the front door. She looked back over her shoulder at her daughter. "But we could all go to Manzanita's on Saturday." She turned her gaze back toward Kathryn. "Lunch or dinner?"

"Either," Kathryn smiled, then glanced over at Chakotay. "Best Mexican food in Bloomington," she explained. "We can decide later."

"And don't forget that outdoor jazz festival," Jeff added as he swung into the front seat.

"And don't anyone forget that Chakotay's supposed to be recovering," Gretchen reminded, standing at the top of the porch steps, listening to all the plans. She looked over to where he stood, leaning against the porch railing. She could see the small lines of exhaustion etched around his mouth and eyes.

At her mother's words, Kathryn looked back up at him. She could see them, too.

He shook his head at their concern. "I'm fine," he assured.

"Get some rest," Phoebe called out, looking pointedly at her sister. "Both of you." Then she closed the door, and Kathryn's response was muffled by the sound of the hovercar as it rose and headed down the driveway.

"Good advice," Gretchen smiled as she headed back into the house. "Why don't you two take a rest in the porch swing while I go finish cleaning up?" She glanced across the yard and up into the sky. "It's a beautiful evening. An Indiana sunset is a joy to behold."

"Mom, I want to help," Kathryn insisted.

But Gretchen pulled the screen door closed behind her. "You and Phoebe have already helped. There's not much more to do." She nodded toward Chakotay. "Go on. Spend some time with… your guest." And she headed down the hall to the kitchen.

Kathryn sighed and turned toward Chakotay, found that he'd already hooked his cane over the porch railing and taken a seat in the old swing, his arm stretched out along the back of it. "There's definitely room for two," he offered.

And Kathryn smiled, going over and sinking down beside him. His arm slid down onto her shoulders, drawing her in close to his body. She sighed again and settled against him. "I'm glad we ate supper early. This way we can watch the sun set." She gazed out at the western sky, where streaks of pink, and blue, and silver were lining the horizon. "Mom's right. Indiana sunsets are beautiful."

She felt Chakotay lean into her, kiss the top of her hair. "So are Indiana girls."

She laughed softly. "It's been a long time since anyone's referred to me as a girl."

"My girl," he murmured, kissing her again.

She snuggled closer.

"I'll bet you sat on this porch swing with lots of Indiana boys," he commented, rubbing his hand over her shoulder, and down along her arm.

"Not as many as you might think," she grinned at his gentle teasing. "Besides, I have my heart set on a Dorvan boy."

"Set?"

She turned slightly, looked up into his dark eyes. "If he'll have me," she whispered.

And Chakotay leaned into her, felt her lips touch his, pulled back a few moments later.

"Macaroni and cheese, chocolate caramel brownies… sweet kisses… You do know how to make a guest feel welcome," he sighed. "And special."

Kathryn pressed her hand against his chest, felt the beating of his heart. Her eyes searched his. "Plain and ordinary isn't so bad either," she said, remembering Jeff's words from supper. "I mean… as family goes."

Chakotay lifted his hand to her face, traced his fingers along her lips, then across the softness of her cheek. "Yes," he breathed.

"Yes?" Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion.

And he nodded. "I'll have you." Then his lips covered hers.

~vVv~


	58. Chapter 58

A long minute later, Kathryn pushed against his chest and pulled back from the softness of his lips.

"You've already had me," she smiled slyly, unable to resist another play on words. "At the top of the stairs, on the floor of my bedroom, down the hall."

Chakotay grinned somewhat wickedly. "On the porch swing?"

She hesitated, held his gaze, and then answered. "No – not with Mom in the kitchen."

He raised his eyebrows. "After she's asleep?"

And Kathryn hit him playfully on the shoulder, then settled against him, turned her gaze back to the sky, watching as the evening clouds bunched together in strands of purples and blues, highlighted with pink and orange. "Let's just keep our… activities as private as possible. Mom's not as young as she used to be."

Chakotay wrapped his arm tighter around her. "Oh, I don't know. I have a feeling this old porch swing has seen some… activity over the years."

And Kathryn smiled, nodded, then sighed. "Probably. Mom and Dad used to sit out here for hours. After he got a nine to five job at Headquarters, he'd come home in the evenings, and they'd just sit here and share their day with each other." She sighed again. "They were so in love."

She felt him press his lips to her temple. "I know the feeling."

Reaching down, she picked up his hand, wrapped her fingers around it, rubbing softly over each large knuckle. She'd seen those hands bruised and beaten before after a boxing session on the holodeck. And she'd seen them handle a phaser rifle, or pilot a shuttle. Seen them in hand to hand combat with hostile aliens, seen them build a shelter, a headboard, a table. Seen them plant tender Talaxian tomato plants, and create delicate sand paintings. Seen them smooth lovingly over her body, touching all the right places with gentle caresses. She lifted his hand to her lips, kissed each finger.

"I know that feeling, too." And she relaxed into him, her back to his chest, his heart beating in tandem with hers.

They watched as the last of the orange ball of sun dropped off the edge of the Earth, disappearing behind that far line of infinity, pulling the bands of color and light with it – watched as the sky turned gold and brown and dark. Then slowly the pinpoints of stars pricked the deep blue blackness, still and quiet in the vast expanse.

"They look different from down here," Chakotay said softly – the first words either of them had spoken in almost half an hour.

Kathryn nodded; he felt the movement against his shoulder.

"I miss looking at them. It's hard to see them all in the city – too many lights." She pointed toward the front yard. "When I was little, I'd climb that tree and wait to see the first star appear."

"Star light, star bright," Chakotay whispered.

And she nodded again. "I made lots of wishes in that tree… on those stars." She drew in a deep breath. "A lot of those wishes came true, and others…"

He felt her shiver in his arms, and he pulled her closer. "We have our fair share of stars on Dorvan, too. And wishes."

She was quiet for several minutes. And then, "I was serious before… about setting my heart."

"I know." He leaned his head against her, pressed his cheek into her hair. "I was serious about… having you…" And he laughed softly. "In all interpretations of that phrase." Kathryn felt his arms move around her, hands brushing over her stomach, the underside of her breasts. "I just… I need… some time… to think about some things… talk to someone…"

"Paul?"

And Chakotay blinked, surprised to hear the counselor's name. "No… not Paul, just … someone."

Kathryn shook her head. "Sekaya?"

And he laughed quietly into her ear; she wasn't going to give up. "I'll let you know," he promised.

And he would… soon.

~vVv~

They sat in the front room for a while, talking to Gretchen. And Chakotay paged through some old books that had belonged to Kathryn's father. But soon, all three of them admitted to being tired and they said their goodnights and retreated to their rooms.

Chakotay used the bathroom first, brushed his teeth, changed into sweats and a t-shirt, then lay propped up in bed watching as Kathryn moved around the room – same routines, different house, same creamy complexion of her skin against her blue silk nightgown. He watched as she brushed her hair, seated at the antique vanity, enjoying her reflection in the tri-fold mirror; he could see her from every angle.

"I can see you, too," Kathryn sighed, as if reading his thoughts.

"It's a lovely old vanity," he remarked.

She turned in the chair and gazed back at him. "It belonged to my grandmother – Mom's mother. Her name was Elizabeth."

"Your middle name," Chakotay smiled.

"Mom says I look like her. I'll show you some pictures in the morning." She set the brush down and got up, moved over to the bed. Chakotay lifted the covers, and she slid in next to him, settled against the warmth of his body. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, then turned his head away and stifled a yawn.

"You're tired," she breathed, running her hand along his chest.

And he nodded.

"Mom was right. I can't forget that you're still recovering."

He grimaced slightly. "I'm not an invalid."

And her expression hardened a bit. "No one said you were. But we've both had a long day – a shuttle trip, climbing stairs, playing basketball."

"Don't forget that part between the stairs and basketball," he grinned.

"You mean the therapy?"

His grin broadened. "Yes… it was very therapeutic."

She ran her hand lower, down his chest to his stomach. And Chakotay yawned, a long exhalation of breath that turned into a half-groan when he realized he was just too tired for a repeat performance.

"Shh," Kathryn whispered in his ear, sliding down lower in the bed beside him. "Let's just get some sleep. Maybe you'll be up for an early morning therapy session."

And he chuckled softly. "If you keep moving your hand the way you do, I'm sure I'll be up for something."

She kissed his chin, and then his lips, then settled her head against his shoulder, pulled her hand back up to his chest. "Then I'll see you in the morning," she breathed, letting her eyes fall closed.

A few minutes later, they were both asleep.

~vVv~


	59. Chapter 59

He was awake now. And it was still dark. But not midnight dark – more like very early morning with gray around the edges of the room dark. He could just make out Kathryn beside him, her hair fanned out on the pillow, eyes closed, lips slightly parted – each breath deep and even – fast asleep.

He wasn't sure what had awakened him, but he was awake – wide awake. And he blinked, sat up. Not wanting to disturb Kathryn, he carefully lifted the covers, pulled his legs over the edge of the bed, and got up.

He didn't bother with his brace, but he pulled a robe on over his t-shirt and sweats, took his cane, and headed down the hall toward the kitchen, where pale light was spilling out the door onto the hardwood floor. When he got there, he found Gretchen sitting at the table with a cup in her hand.

She smiled over at him. "I thought I heard someone up."

"I tried to be quiet."

"You've got a distinctive shuffle."

He sighed, glancing down at his left leg. "I'm afraid it still lags behind."

"It won't always," Gretchen assured him, getting up and pulling out a chair. "Have a seat. I'll get you some hot tea and a brownie."

Chakotay arched an eyebrow as he settled at the table. "A brownie for breakfast?"

Gretchen glanced at the clock above the stove. "It won't be breakfast for another hour," she explained setting a small plate of brownies and a cup of tea in front of him. "This is technically a very late night snack."

Chakotay looked over at the clock. 0600 hours. "Before the stroke, I'd get up at this time to go running."

"You will again," Gretchen said, sitting back down across from him. "Before you know it, you'll both be back into your everyday routines – getting up early, staying up late, working entirely too many hours. Enjoy the time you have now."

He smiled. "I am." Then he took a long sip of his tea, set it down, broke off a piece of the chocolate caramel brownie, took a bite, chewed slowly, then took another sip of tea.

All the while, Gretchen watched and waited.

Finally, he looked over at her, drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly. "I love your daughter, Mrs. Janeway."

"Gretchen."

Chakotay smiled. "I love your daughter… Gretchen." And he looked down at the table, folded his hands on top of it. "I've loved her for a very long time. And I… I can't imagine living without her." He hesitated, then continued. "I know… right now… I may not seem… as strong or… healthy as I'd like to be, but…" He raised his eyes, looked squarely into Gretchen's gaze. "I promise you, I will always take care of her. All those years we were in the Delta Quadrant, I tried my best to be a good first officer, to put her needs before my own, to make sure that… well, she was never alone. And now, I… Well, I.." he sighed, stared back down at the table.

And Gretchen smiled at the bowed head before her, wanting to reach out and touch the shoulders that seemed weighed down with what she knew was uncharacteristic doubt and hesitation. This wasn't a man who doubted or hesitated, at least, not on the bridge of a starship. But here, in Indiana, sitting in her kitchen, there was a palpable sense of uncertainty.

"Commander, are you asking permission to marry my daughter?"

And he looked up at her. And in that instant, with those words, all doubt and hesitancy were gone; his eyes glowed with a certainty and a love so fierce she could feel it. "Yes, ma'am," he replied.

And Gretchen smiled, reaching over and touching her fingers to the back of his hand. "You don't need my permission, Chakotay."

He nodded. "I know that, but… I'd like to have it."

"An old-fashioned young man?"

He grinned slightly. "Old-fashioned – yes. Young – well, not as much anymore. But I think I'll be around for a while. And I want to spend the rest of my life with Kathryn."

Gretchen picked up her cup, took a long sip of the strong black coffee, studied the man who sat before her. Then she put her cup down. "Kathryn loves you. I knew that even before she could admit it to herself. And she needs you – she may never admit to that, but she does. And when I see her look at you, I know there's nowhere, in any quadrant, that she would rather be. And so… yes. You have my permission to marry my daughter."

Chakotay exhaled a deep breath, blinked at the sudden tears that filled his eyes. "Thank you, Gretchen."

And she almost laughed at the look of utter relief on his face, as if her response could have been anything other than a positive one. And she was curious. "What would you have done if I'd said no?"

He sighed, thought for a moment, then answered. "I guess… I would have had to pretend that… damn stroke affected my hearing." And he grinned, dimples etched sharply around his mouth.

"Welcome to the family," she smiled.

And he shook his head. "I haven't asked her yet."

"She'll say yes," Gretchen assured, getting up from the table and stepping over to him. She touched his face, leaned down and kissed his cheek, whispered in his ear. "She'd be a fool not to."

And then she left him, sitting at the table, with a half-eaten brownie and a quickly cooling cup of tea. He could hear her footsteps on the stairs, going back to bed. And he did the same. Putting his plate and cup in the sink, and turning off the light, he headed back down the hall.

The room was brighter now, pale morning light filtering in around the curtains. He removed his robe, then shed the rest of his clothes, sliding under the covers beside Kathryn, naked skin against the cool silkiness of her nightgown. She shifted in her sleep, pushing back into him, and he pressed closer, his hand running up her leg, pulling her nightgown up, over her thighs and hips. And she woke at the movement, eyes opening slowly, hands touching his shoulders and arms. And then she held still, allowed him to lift the nightgown up over her head and off. She lay beneath him, his weight and gaze heavy upon her, hands and mouth, gentle and soft.

He hadn't asked yet. But he knew.

And in the early morning stillness, he made love to the woman who would be his wife.

And the mother of his children.

~vVv~


	60. Chapter 60

The morning quiet was broken by the sudden sound of Kathryn's laughter, and Chakotay opened his eyes, shifting his body when he realized that he was still half on top of her.

"Stay," she breathed, pressing her hands into his back.

"I'm too heavy."

She shook her head, kissed his shoulder. "No… you're fine – right where you are."

Still, he settled more of his weight on his right side, leaving his left leg draped over her lower body. "That's good," he sighed. "Left side doesn't move as well anyway."

She rubbed her hand down his back. "Seemed to be moving just fine a little while ago." Her caress moved lower, over his hip and buttocks. "Until you fell asleep on me."

"Guess I dozed off." And he smiled, pressing his face into the curve of her neck.

"You were tired." The fingers of her other hand brushed through his hair.

"And that's why you were laughing?" He cocked his head back, gave her a sideways gaze.

"No. Actually I was remembering a question you asked me a long time ago. Right after B'Elanna took over in Engineering."

Chakotay's eyes narrowed for a moment, and then widened, a dimpled grin creasing his face. "Would you have served under me?"

And Kathryn leaned over, kissed him lightly on the lips. "I believe I just did."

And Chakotay laughed, ran his fingers over her cheeks. "And you make an excellent first officer."

Kathryn kissed his fingertips. "Thank you, sir. It was a pleasure serving under you."

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine," he growled playfully, kissing the side of her neck, nuzzling the spot under her ear, feeling her arch beneath him. He ran his hand down along her side, settled on her hip, held her still. He propped his chin gently on her shoulder, gazed into the blue greyness of her eyes. "Kathryn, will you marry me?"

He felt her draw in a quick breath then release it, her eyes closing for a moment. When she opened them, he could see that they were bright with instant tears. Possessively, he tightened the hand on her hip.

She moved both of her hands to his cheeks, held his face between them, fingers smoothing over the high cheekbones, the lines around his mouth and eyes, the markings of his tattoo, the dimples that she loved so much – touching the moment, holding it close, committing it to memory.

He waited – another breath, another touch.

And then, "Yes," she breathed.

And he sighed, pressing forward, lips covering hers, moving eagerly over her mouth, his tongue slipping in, touching, tasting, the length of his body close against her, flesh on flesh. Her hands moved from his face, to his neck, to his shoulders, gripping, holding… and then he felt her shaking.

He pulled back slightly, propped himself on one elbow, gazed at the woman beneath him.

She was crying.

"Kathryn?" He lifted his hand from her hip, touched the soft skin below her eyes, fingers rubbing at the warm teardrops.

She shook her head and smiled. "I love you so much."

And he grinned, brushed at the tears again. "I love you." He settled back on his side, drew her in close, her head resting on his shoulder. And he held her, his hand rubbing up and down the length of her arm. "I suppose a proposal in bed isn't as romantic as getting down on one knee," he sighed.

She pushed closer to him, rubbing her hand over his chest. "I thought it was very romantic."

"That's good, because if I'd gotten down on one knee, I might not have gotten back up."

Kathryn laughed softly, then turned her head, looked up into his eyes. "I would have."

"Would have what?" he asked, puzzled by her words.

"All those years ago, when you asked if things had happened differently, if we'd been on the Maquis ship instead of _Voyager_, I never gave you a real answer."

He smiled. "One of the nice things about being Captain is that you can keep some things to yourself." Her exact words had been a part of his memory for so long.

And Kathryn pressed a soft kiss to his chest, then smiled back up at him. "I would have served under you. I think I already knew that I would have done anything to have you in my life."

~vVv~


	61. Chapter 61

The warm smell of bacon, biscuits, and coffee finally pulled them out of bed, into their pajamas and robes, and down the hall to the kitchen. Gretchen was back at the table, another cup of coffee cradled between her hands, just as Chakotay had found her a few hours earlier.

She looked up at them. "I was right, wasn't I?" She winked at Chakotay, then looked over at Kathryn who was pouring a cup of coffee.

And he blushed slightly, realizing that she knew.

"Right about what?" Kathryn questioned, turning and handing the cup to Chakotay as he settled into a chair.

Gretchen smiled softly at her daughter. "You said yes."

And in that instant, it all fell into place in Kathryn's mind. She stared at Chakotay. "It was Mom," she said flatly. "The someone you needed to talk to was my mother."

He shrugged and gazed into the dark liquid in his cup, not sure what her reaction would be.

She sat down in the chair next to his, her own coffee cup gripped firmly in her hands. "You needed to talk to my mother," she repeated, as if convincing herself of the idea.

"He asked my permission," Gretchen interjected, enjoying Kathryn's bemusement.

"Your permission?" She raised an eyebrow in her mother's direction.

"He's an old-fashioned young man," she returned in his defense.

Again, Chakotay shrugged under Kathryn's quiet appraisal, still not sure if she agreed with his actions.

And then, a smile broke across her face, and she was leaning forward, kissing his cheek, whispering in his ear. "Definitely old-fashioned."

He grinned at her, noticing the omission of an adjective. "But not young?"

"Young enough," she breathed.

And Gretchen laughed, getting up to fix the breakfast plates. "Definitely young enough! It's already after nine o'clock."

Kathryn glanced at the clock above the stove. "Oh, Mom, we didn't mean to oversleep."

Gretchen shook her head as she arranged bacon and eggs on a plate. "Is that what they're calling it these days?"

"Mom!"

"Don't look so shocked. I wasn't born yesterday!" She handed the plate to her daughter. "And don't worry. I've already called Phoebe. She's rearranged the museum tour for eleven."

Kathryn's eyes widened. "You didn't…"

"Tell her why?" Gretchen teased, then smiled reassuringly at her. "No. I just told her that you and Chakotay had some news to share."

Kathryn pushed a plate across the table to Chakotay, who was still sitting silently, watching the exchange between mother and daughter. All those years, he'd thought that Kathryn Janeway had inherited her talent for command from her father – the tricks of the trade, the subtly, the bargaining, the iron hand.

Boy, had he been wrong!

~vVv~

Phoebe was one of the curators for the Bloomington Museum of North American History, and the tour she'd arranged was quite entertaining and informative. Chakotay found the displays on Native American culture to be especially interesting. On several occasions, though, he found himself wandering ahead of the Janeway women to look at the artifacts on his own. Try as she might, Phoebe couldn't stop pressuring Kathryn to share her news, and Kathryn kept putting her off. Finally, in the middle of the Women of the Plains display, Kathryn placed her hands on her hips, glared at her sister, and answered her persistent questions – in a roundabout way.

"Phoebe," she hissed quietly, in deference to the half dozen museum patrons that surrounded them, "you already know what our news is. You knew it the moment Mom mentioned it to you."

An amused grin lit Phoebe's features. "Well, perhaps I do. But I still want to hear it from you."

"Or me," Chakotay laughed, going back and joining them, having seen Kathryn strike the all too familiar pose that always sent the message that enough was enough.

Phoebe blinked, not realizing that he'd come up behind her. But she regained her composure quickly – she was a Janeway after all. She turned on him. "You'll do."

And he grinned. "That's good to know, because I've asked your sister to marry me. And she's said yes."

"Oh, Kathryn!" She turned back and wrapped her arms around her, tears instantly glowing in her eyes.

"Now don't you start," Kathryn warned, hugging her.

"Don't either of you start," Gretchen added.

"Don't any of you start," Chakotay pleaded teasingly, looking around for support or the nearest exit – either would do.

And Gretchen chuckled, grabbed hold of his arm, and led him away from the teary-eyed sisters. "Let them be," she sighed. "We'll go on ahead and pretend we don't know them."

And they did, enjoying the rest of the displays as Phoebe and Kathryn trailed behind, arm in arm, heads together, already planning what sounded like a gala event. At one point, Chakotay could have sworn he heard the words "grand plaza" and "symphony orchestra," and he started to head back, only to be pulled forward by Gretchen.

"That's Phoebe, and it's just talk," she assured him. "Kathryn's like you. She'll want something small and intimate – close friends and family."

And Chakotay smiled at his future mother-in-law, realizing how well she already knew him.

"Still though," he sighed, "she'll plan it like she's planning a deep space mission – every detail will be agonized over." He said it as if he regretted the time she'd be spending.

Gretchen shook her head. "She'll love every minute of it." And when Chakotay gave her a doubtful look, she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him in for a fierce hug. "Because she loves you." And that's all there was to say.

~vVv~


	62. Chapter 62

"You've always like peach," Phoebe said, staring across the table at her sister. They were all gathered for lunch at the Hoosier Café.

"I do like peach," Kathryn agreed. "And blue." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Chakotay grin, and she knew what he was thinking – the colors of her nightgowns.

"Well, we could go with a two-color scheme – peach and blue," Phoebe mused aloud.

But Kathryn shook her head. "Sounds too much like baby colors."

"So – it's a logical progression," Phoebe argued. "No need to put it off."

Jeff, who was sitting next to her, reached out and placed a hand on her arm. "Just slow down there, wedding planner." He glanced over at the dark-haired man across from him. "You'll frighten the groom away."

Chakotay took a sip of his water and shook his head. "Oh, no frightening me away," he assured, gazing over at Kathryn. "I'm here to stay."

"Of course, you are," Phoebe agreed, then glanced at her husband. "The man's spent seven years in the Delta Quadrant by her side, he's not going anywhere." She settled her eyes back on him. "So, what's your favorite color?"

"Oh, I like blue," Chakotay answered, gazing back at Kathryn, "with just a hint of grey." Phoebe started to say something, but he continued. "But brown is nice, with a touch of red, and, if the light is just right, sometimes gold."

Kathryn laughed. "More often grey."

And Phoebe rolled her eyes. "Stop describing my sister's eyes and hair and tell me honestly – what's your favorite color?"

Chakotay smiled at his soon-to-be sister-in-law and answered. "Honestly – it is blue. Light blue – like the sky." _Over New Earth on a sunny day,_ he added in his mind.

"Well, then it's settled," Phoebe decided. "We'll go with blue."

"Now I'm with Jeff," Gretchen said from the head of the table. "Just slow down Phoebe Ann Janeway Garrison. You've had your wedding. This one belongs to Kathryn and Chakotay. Let them make some decisions."

And Phoebe's eyes rolled again before settling on her sister. "If we leave it up to Kathryn, she'll have them getting married in Starfleet dress uniforms and expect all of their friends to wear the same."

"I will not," Kathryn shot back, knowing instantly that's not what she wanted – although she wasn't sure what she did want – not yet anyway. She smiled over at Chakotay. "We have plenty of time to decide on the details." And she glanced back at Phoebe. "We're not getting married tomorrow."

"When?"

And she suddenly found herself silenced by her sister's one-word question - a simple question which, as of that moment, had no answer.

"Phoebe," Gretchen spoke up again, "give them some space."

She shook her head and grinned. "They've had enough space."

And Kathryn groaned at the play on words.

Her mother sighed. "Then give them some time." And she held up her hand, stemming Phoebe's next words. "Yes, they've had plenty of that, too, but only about five hours since their engagement began. I think we can afford them a little more."

"All right," Phoebe conceded, "but if you need any advice…"

"I'll know who to ask," Kathryn assured.

"You know, Ellie is going to be so excited."

"I'm glad because that's a detail I'm already sure about." She smiled over at Chakotay. "I think Ellie and Calusa will make wonderful flower girls." He nodded. "And Cooper and Paka can be our ring bearers," she added.

"And the girls can wear peach and the boys can wear blue."

All eyes glared at Phoebe.

And she threw up her hands. "Or they can all wear miniature Starfleet uniforms. Whatever you want. It's your wedding."

And they all laughed.

~vVv~

Chakotay spent the afternoon observing Jeff's classes, and the Janeway women went shopping, something they hadn't done together in years. They had a wonderful time trying on outfits and laughing at some of the new styles – Kathryn even bought a few items. Sometimes it was nice to be out of uniform, both literally and figuratively!

Later that evening, they gathered again for a family meal – a true family meal, Kathryn thought as she looked at the people seated around the kitchen table. If this was plain and ordinary, then she never wanted anything else.

"So do we start calling you Uncle Chakotay?" Ellie asked, staring intensely at the man across the table.

And he smiled, gave a gentle shrug of his shoulders. "If you want, it's fine by me."

"Uncle Cha-ko-tay," Cooper said slowly, sounding out the syllables.

"Sounds good to me," Kathryn laughed.

"But you have to say it faster," Ellie said.

"Uncle Chakotay," Cooper repeated.

"That does sound better," his mother commented.

And it did. It sounded wonderful, Kathryn decided a few minutes later as she watched the men trail out the back door to play basketball with Cooper and Ellie, both children calling him Uncle Chakotay.

"It'll sound even better when there's someone calling him Daddy," Phoebe whispered in her ear, then scooted away to avoid the hand that Kathryn aimed at her shoulder.

"Stop teasing your sister," Gretchen scolded. "Even if it is true," she added with a wink toward her older daughter.

"Mom!" Kathryn groaned and turned back to the table, gathering the plates and taking them to the sink. "We're not even married yet."

"But you can't tell me that you haven't thought about it."

She gazed at her mother for a moment, lost in thought, remembering Chakotay's words from earlier in the week: "It's not too late" and her reply: "Never too late."

"Yes," she admitted, "I've thought about it. We both have."

"And?" Phoebe pressed.

Kathryn laughed at the eager expression on her face. "Well, I think we're both in favor of the idea, but perhaps we should plan the wedding first."

"Fine," her sister agreed, "but neither of you is getting any younger."

"Thanks a lot!" Kathryn exclaimed, throwing a dish towel at her.

Phoebe caught it before it hit her in the face. "I'm just stating the facts. As a starship captain, you should appreciate that." And she threw the towel back.

"Girls!" Gretchen intervened, grabbing the wet dish towel as it sailed through the air. "Let's take things a step at a time. Wedding first – then we can worry about starting a family."

"We?" Kathryn half sighed and laughed at the same time. "What's with we? I think starting a family is between me and Chakotay."

"Of course, Katie," Gretchen agreed, patting her on the shoulder with a look that seemed to say, "You just keep thinking that."

~vVv~

Basketball was over for the night, Phoebe and her family had gone home, and Gretchen had retired to bed. Kathryn and Chakotay were turning in early as well. It had been a long day. The museum tour, Jeff's classes, and the after-dinner game had taken a lot out of Chakotay, Kathryn realized catching his reflection in the mirror. Propped up against pillows on the bed, he looked exhausted, the skin under his eyes darkly shadowed, lines etched a little deeper around his mouth.

_He's supposed to be recovering,_ Kathryn silently chided herself, vowing that tomorrow they'd spend more time resting and less time sightseeing. Phoebe had said something about spending the afternoon at the jazz festival in the park, but maybe they could go for a little while after dinner and just take the afternoon off – just the two of them, lazing around the house, relaxing on the front porch.

Setting her brush on the vanity, she went over and climbed into bed beside him.

"Was that one hundred?" he asked, looking up at her from under half-closed lids.

"One hundred?"

"Brush strokes," he clarified, an amused grin playing across his lips.

And she leaned over and kissed that grin, then settled close to him under the blankets. "I do not brush it one hundred times," she maintained, and sighed as she felt his fingers brush through the strands of her hair.

"Feels like it to me," he persisted, not too tired to tease.

"Apparently, then, grey must be softer than brown – but I don't know about the reds and golds," she smiled and pressed a kiss to his temple. "Umm – soft there," she sighed.

"And getting softer by the minute," he agreed.

And he was right. His hair was showing more glints of silver these days. She'd thought about the idea that stress could cause your hair to go grey, and wondered if dealing with his stroke might be speeding up the process. She rubbed her fingers over the lighter wisps and kissed him again. No matter the cause, she loved the results – he looked more natural and rakishly handsome, she decided.

"I like this look on you," she said thoughtfully. "It does make you look… softer."

She felt his chest move with a half laugh, a gentle rumble at her words. "That's not exactly what a man wants to hear."

And she playfully slapped her hand against his shoulder. "You know what I mean. You used to look... a bit stern when your hair was completely black."

"I was thinking it made me look younger," he mumbled.

"Were you thinking or hoping?" she teased.

"I guess both," he admitted.

"Well, I think your… softer look makes you look younger – more relaxed, at ease with yourself."

"Oh, no," he breathed, reaching up and touching her cheek with his fingertips, "that comes from loving you."

And Kathryn smiled, pressing her face into his neck and breathing in the warmth of him. He always knew just the right thing to say.

~vVv~


	63. Chapter 63

Sometimes, she dreamed of home – not Indiana, not San Francisco, but _Voyager_. On the bridge, or in the mess hall, surrounded by her crew – her family.

And he was there. Always.

Beside her, with her, close enough to touch with her hand or eyes – a constant in her life.

She woke from her dream of home to find him nestled against her, curled in close, his head on her shoulder. And he felt warm.

Warmer than usual.

Quickly, she ran her hand over his forehead, felt the heat of fever against her palm – not burning up, but definitely hot.

Gently, she pulled away from him, settling his head on the pillow as she went to get a medical tricorder that she'd brought with her at the insistence of the Doctor. And she was relieved that she had it. Without waking him, she scanned him and read the results. His fever was only a few degrees above normal, and she suspected that he'd just overdone it – she knew that exhaustion could sometimes cause a fever. He'd only been out of rehab for a little over a week, and physically and emotionally he'd been through a lot in the past eight days. They were just trying to do too much too soon.

Not finding any other symptoms, she put the tricorder away and retrieved a wet washcloth from the bathroom. She didn't want to wake him, but even in his sleep, she suspected that the fever was causing some discomfort – the lines around his eyes and mouth seemed tighter than usual, and his breathing seemed heavier.

She climbed back into bed beside him, leaned against the headboard, and began to bathe his face and neck. Instinctively, he pushed into the touch, the coolness of the cloth against his skin. His eyes opened slowly, and he looked up at her, his gaze cloudy and unfocused.

"Kathryn?" he breathed, voice hoarse and weak.

"Shh," she soothed, continuing her gentle stroking motion, over his cheeks and chin, down his neck, under the collar of his t-shirt, touching the top of his chest.

"Umm…" he groaned, and then sighed, and she felt him relax further.

"You have a fever, Chakotay," she explained, her voice soft and steady, like the cloth against his body. "I think you're just exhausted."

He shook his head, tried to push against the pillow in disagreement. And she touched his shoulder, tried to hold him still.

"Relax," she insisted. "Just lie still. Or I'll contact the Doctor."

He blinked up at her, recognizing her threat. With her rank and position at Starfleet, she could easily request a site-to-site for their favorite holographic physician.

And he didn't resist, settling back into the bed.

"How do you feel?" she asked, watching his face for any hint to what he might not admit.

But he was truthful with her – he was tired and a little weak, and a bit cold.

She pulled an extra quilt from the foot of the bed, tucked it in around his chest and shoulders.

"Just sleep," she prescribed.

And he closed his eyes, only to open them a moment later. "No Doctor?" he questioned, eyes fluttering like a baby bird.

And she smiled, smoothed her hand over his forehead, still feeling the warmth. "No Doctor right now," she promised, although she would contact him as soon as he fell back to sleep.

And Chakotay nodded, eyes closing again as he moved closer to her – a port in the storm.

~vVv~

He was sleeping soundly now, still and quiet in the middle of the bed, covered by a blanket, the quilt cast aside as he went from being cold to hot to somewhere in between. He'd been restless at first, tossing and turning against her, until she'd given him a dose of acetaminophen, just something to ease his discomfort and allow him to sleep restfully. She'd contacted the Doctor and he'd assured her that she was taking the right steps – keep him in bed, and quiet, and when he was awake provide lots of fluids.

When she was sure that he was resting peacefully, she wandered down the hall to the kitchen. Her mother was there and knew immediately that something was wrong. _Probably the worried look on my face,_ Kathryn thought to herself watching her mother's expression tighten into what was probably a mirror image.

"Katie?"

She sighed and sank down into a chair, accepted the cup of coffee her mother offered. "Chakotay has a fever."

"You should have called me."

Kathryn shook her head. "It's not too high. I think he's just exhausted – the past week catching up to him. I've already contacted the Doctor." She took a sip of coffee, savored it, then continued. "He needs rest and quiet."

"And fluids," Gretchen added.

And Kathryn smiled. "Exactly what the Doctor said."

"And so do you." And before she could pull away, Gretchen had reached over and placed her hand against her daughter's forehead.

"Mom – I don't have a fever," Kathryn resisted, shaking free of her mother's touch.

"Not yet."

"Exhaustion isn't catching," she replied with a frown.

And Gretchen sighed. "You don't have to catch it – you've probably built up a good case of your own."

Kathryn smiled at her concern and stared down into her coffee cup. "Well, at least I'm starting on fluids."

"And then you're going back to bed," Gretchen insisted. "I'll bring both of you some breakfast after a while."

And Kathryn just nodded. She knew there was no use arguing with Gretchen Janeway. And if truth be told, at that moment, she was just too tired.

~vVv~


	64. Chapter 64

He was halfway out of bed, fumbling for his cane when Kathryn returned to their room. She hurried over to him, taking his arm to steady him as he swayed on the edge of the bed.

"And just what do you think you're doing?" she admonished, tightening her hold when he tried to move away, still reaching for his cane.

He turned his face to her, eyes still hazy with fever, shoulders rising and falling in a slight shrug. "Gotta… pee," he breathed tiredly.

And Kathryn sighed; there was no denying Mother Nature. "Let me help," she insisted, handing him his cane and then holding onto him as he gained his feet.

He shook his head. "I can manage," he mumbled, taking a step toward the bathroom. She felt him sag against her, and she wrapped her arm around his back, her hand gripping his shoulder.

"I'm sure you can manage to fall flat on your face, but let's not test that theory." She maintained her grasp and walked him into the bathroom, helped him lower his clothing out of the way, and held onto him while he relieved himself. The fact that he didn't complain let her know just how bad he felt – that and the heat of his skin against her arm and hands.

By the time they made it back to the bed, he was trembling, and she tucked the covers close in around him. He drew in a shaky breath, let it out slowly, reached up and touched her cheek.

"You look tired, Kathryn." Concern for her warred with the fever in his eyes.

She smiled, brushing her hand over his forehead. "Pot calling the kettle black."

And he managed a slight dimpled grin and tugged at her hand. "You rest, too," he suggested, trying to pull her down on the bed.

And she didn't resist. Instead, she slid in next to him, curling around the warmth of his body. She yawned into his shoulder, and felt his soft laughter rumble in his chest, touching against her cheek.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"For what?" She ran her hand over his chest, felt the solid beating of his heart.

"I just feel so damned weak. Just when I think I'm getting better…"

She shifted her head, looked up at him, her hand moving to his neck, rubbing the soft skin under his ear. "You are getting better, Chakotay. We've just been doing a lot lately, and it's catching up with us." She gently stroked her fingers through his hair. "What was that saying? Even the eagle must know when to sleep?"

Again, silent laughter and then a sigh. "The eagle has landed," he breathed, brushing his lips across her forehead.

She strengthened her hold on him. "And I've got you. Just sleep."

His arm tightened around her. "You, too."

~vVv~

They slept, for several more hours, and, when they woke, they both felt better. Small beads of perspiration across Chakotay's forehead made Kathryn suspect that his fever had broken. And when she sat up in bed and scanned him with the tricorder, she was pleased to see his temperature had fallen.

He looked at her expectantly, and she answered his unspoken question. "Ninety-eight point nine," she assured. "Almost back to normal."

And he grinned, dimples etched sharply in his bronze cheeks, a definite glint in his eyes. "That is normal for me. I always run a little warm."

And she smiled back. "Are you saying you're always hot, Commander?"

He pushed up beside her. "And bothered," he growled, kissing her neck.

"Well, I hope you're hungry."

A voice came from the door, startling them both. They pushed away from each other and looked over to find Gretchen coming in with a tray table laden with food.

"I've brought you some lunch, since you slept through breakfast." She placed the tray on the dresser and moved over to the bed. "Let's get you comfortable."

Kathryn laughed, sitting up straighter. "We were quite comfortable before you came in."

"Yes, I saw. But you're supposed to be resting. There'll be plenty of time later for other... activities."

Kathryn sighed and looked over at Chakotay. He was blushing, his cheeks turning red, and not from fever.

He was silent as Gretchen fussed over him, plumping his pillows and adjusting his blankets before retrieving the tray table and placing it over his lap. "My grandmother's hot broth," she announced. "Guaranteed to cure almost any ailment." She brushed her hand over Chakotay's forehead, wiping the fine sheen of perspiration with her fingertips. "Including exhaustion." And she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You eat up." Pulling back, she glanced at Kathryn and then back to Chakotay. "Then get some more rest." Her voice was firm.

Kathryn smiled at the two bowls of soup, two plates of fruit, two glasses of milk, and even two brownies. And she looked up at her mother. "Aye, aye, Captain."

Gretchen grinned. "Good answer. You're on my starship now!"

~vVv~


	65. Chapter 65

And Gretchen Janeway would have made a fine starship captain, Chakotay decided as he took the last bite of his broth under her watchful eye. Earlier, he'd tried to push the bowl away before he was done, only to be chastised with a raised eyebrow and a quiet, yet firm, directive, "Uh-uh, all of it." And he'd complied.

As had Kathryn. She knew her mother – there would be no brownies until broth and fruit were gone.

Gretchen sat on the end of the bed, talking companionably as they ate, only wielding command when the need arose: broth to be finished, fruit to be eaten, milk to be drunk. A taskmaster like her daughter.

_Cut from the same cloth_, Chakotay determined, as he watched and listened to the two of them together. And he thought of Kathryn's future self – Admiral Janeway - knowing already that she would be different now for they would live this life together.

He reached out and quietly slid his hand into hers, and she stopped rambling on about Aunt Martha's recipe for coconut cake and turned her eyes toward him. He grinned, somewhat sheepishly.

And she gave him a soft smile, squeezed his fingers. "Are you feeling left out?"

He shrugged, then felt Gretchen's hand on his knee, patting him soundly. "Of course, he is. How rude of us! Going on about people he's never met and coconut cake he's never had the pleasure of eating."

Kathryn laughed. "Well, we can remedy that. At least, part way. Someone," and she cast her eyes in Gretchen's direction, "could bake a coconut cake this afternoon, but we might want to think twice before we beam Aunt Martha up from Florida." She glanced toward Chakotay. "My father's older sister. And as much as I love her, she could talk your ears off – literally. And we're supposed to be resting."

Gretchen nodded in agreement. "Let's save Aunt Martha for the wedding." And she patted Chakotay's knee again. "Oh, she is going to love you."

"Of course, she'll act like she doesn't," Kathryn explained. "But don't let her fool you. Under her gruff exterior, is the heart of a lamb who just happens to make the best coconut cake I've ever eaten."

Chakotay eyed her warily. "How many aunts and uncles are there to meet?"

Kathryn reached up and touched his cheek, taking pity on him as a look of genuine concern traced over his features. "There's just Aunt Martha," she assured.

He breathed a soft sigh of relief. "Well, I suppose I can handle meeting one aunt."

And Gretchen and Kathryn looked at each other and just laughed. The poor man had no idea!

~vVv~

Gretchen insisted on postponing the plans for their Mexican dinner despite Chakotay's assurances that he was feeling better. She was adamant as she studied the tricorder over Kathryn's shoulder. "Your temperature may be back to normal, but until you're fever free for twenty-four hours, you're not leaving this house."

She did make a concession about the front porch, saying that fresh air would do him good. So, later in the day, he found himself sitting with Kathryn in the swing, swaying gently, soaking in the afternoon sun. With her help, he'd taken a bath and gotten dressed, although it hadn't been exactly the experience he'd desired.

_Shedding his sweats and t-shirt, he dropped them to the floor, then reached out for Kathryn's robe._

"_Oh, no," she shook her head, pushing his hands away and motioning toward the tub. "I've already taken a bath. It's your turn." She held his hand as he stepped in and lowered himself into the hot water. "I'm here for support, not for any… recreational activities." She sat on the edge of the tub and grinned as she soaped a washcloth, then ran it over his shoulders. "You heard what my mother said. Besides," she moved the cloth down across his chest, "you were feeling weak earlier, you may not be up to anything too strenuous."_

"_I may be up for more than you think," he shot back, reaching out and running his hand along her thigh._

_And Kathryn laughed, her eyes shifting from his face to the surface of the water. "Be that as it may, big guy, you're getting a bath and that's it."_

_He sighed, leaning back in the tub, making sure she got a good view of his upper torso. "I've always liked that nickname better than Old Man."_

"_Well, it's more fitting," she agreed, reaching down and lifting his left leg on to the side of the tub, soaping his thigh and calf before washing his foot. Settling it back into the water, she leaned over for the other leg, only to find that it was more difficult to reach. "Help me out here, big guy," she laughed, running her fingers over his knee._

_Chakotay grinned and raised his right leg out of the water, bracing it against the side. "You know it would be easier if you just climbed in here with me."_

_She shook her head as she began to wash his other leg. "I'm doing just fine where I am. And the view's not half bad." She stroked the cloth lower, under the water, her hand grazing the top of his thigh._

_He hissed slightly. "You wouldn't be taking advantage of a sick man, would you?"_

_And she smiled, innocently batting her eyelashes. "Oh, you'd know if I were taking advantage."_

"_Would I?" he growled. And before she could resist, he'd grabbed hold of her upper arms and pulled her into the tub, her robe instantly becoming a sodden weight falling across both of them._

"_Chakotay!" She pushed against his chest, but he held tight, his hands moving to push the wet material off her arms and out of the way, sighing with desire when he obtained an unobstructed view. "If my mother finds out…" she gasped, even as she relaxed against him, burying her face in his neck._

"_And who's going to tell her?" he challenged, pulling her closer into his embrace._

"_Well, I'm certainly not about to-"_

_Her words were cut off by loud knocking on the door. "Are you two all right in there?"_

_Kathryn's eyes widened, and then she began to giggle, gasping for each breath, unable to reply._

_Chakotay coughed and struggled to sit up higher in the water. "We're just fine," he called out._

_There was silence for a moment, and then, "You remember what I said about other activities." Her tone was a cross between questioning and commanding._

_Catching her breath, Kathryn drew away from Chakotay and sat up in the cooling water. "Chakotay's just finishing his bath. We'll be out in a while."_

"_All right." And Kathryn could almost hear her mother's frustrated exhalation of breath. "This starship may not have a brig, but I can find one if have to!"_

_And they both dissolved into laughter again._

Chakotay smiled at the very recent memory and leaned back in the swing, draping his arm over Kathryn's shoulder and looking around at the sun-drenched yard. "Well, if this is your mother's brig, we'll have to break the rules more often." He kissed her forehead. "Although, there are some rules that didn't get broken."

Kathryn laughed. "Don't push your luck… big guy." She tilted her head up and kissed him on the chin. "We're supposed to be resting, remember?" And she ran her fingers over his cheek, holding her hand to his face for several moments.

He covered her hand with his. "I don't have a fever, Kathryn."

"I know." She kissed him again. "But you're still hot."

~vVv~


	66. Chapter 66

**Author's Note:** Thanks so much for all the positive reviews! They really give me inspiration.

Twenty-four hours of pampering did them both some good, and, by the next afternoon, they were eager to escape Gretchen's over-watchful eye and take a little shore leave away from the U.S.S. _Janeway._

"Just a slow walk through town, do a little shopping, then meet everyone at Manzanita's," Kathryn suggested, gazing not at Chakotay, but at her mother, as if seeking approval and permission.

And Gretchen nodded. "A very short walk through town," she conceded.

Kathryn smiled. "There are several nice shops near the restaurant – an art gallery, antiques, an old book store." She saw Chakotay's eyebrows arch as she mentioned the last one. He could make a day of rummaging through dusty old books.

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, getting up from the table where they'd been sitting. They'd finished lunch over an hour ago, but they'd lingered longer over cups of coffee and conversation. "But I think I'd better grab a shower and change into something other than sweats."

Kathryn looked up as he passed behind her chair. "Do you need any help?"

And before he could answer, Gretchen answered for him. "No, he'll be fine. Twenty-four hours fever free and he should be able to shower on his own."

Instead of being self-conscious, Chakotay just laughed, leaning down and brushing a kiss over Kathryn's forehead despite Gretchen's commanding gaze. "Your mother's right. If we're going to go shopping, we'd best get ready. Help in the shower could lead to _other activities_." He winked over at his future mother-in-law. "And we wouldn't want that."

"Well, at least not all the time," Gretchen agreed, returning the wink, glad to see that her soon-to-be son-in-law wasn't as easily embarrassed as she'd thought – although she did miss that bronzed glow his cheeks got when he blushed. She'd have to work harder on her double entendres.

"Mom!" Kathryn threw her napkin in her mother's direction. "You make us sound like… bunnies!" And she laughed at the memory of B'Elanna's words and the crew's betting pools.

Gretchen joined in the laughter. "You said it, not me!"

~vVv~

It was a beautiful afternoon, blue skies, gentle breeze, a slight chill in the air – perfect early autumn. The shopping area was very quaint and old-fashioned – little brick storefronts situated around a courtyard with benches, fountains, and outdoor eating areas.

Although it had been her idea, Kathryn was beginning to have second thoughts when she realized the amount of walking their outing would require – it wasn't an overly large shopping area but big enough to be a bit daunting for someone using a cane.

When she expressed her concern, however, Chakotay just waved it off, forging on ahead of her in search of the previously mentioned bookstore. And she'd laughed at his single-mindedness, stepping quickly to catch up with him, grabbing his left hand in hers.

"We don't have to start with the bookstore," she proposed. "This is a great little antique shop." She'd stopped for a moment, pulling him back from his forward movement.

He paused long enough to glance in the window – an eclectic assortment of English and early mid-western furniture. Several pieces caught his eye, but he shrugged.

"They do have a nice selection, but we don't need any furniture."

"Well, not at the moment, but…" She turned to him. "I was thinking. After we marry, we might want to look for a new place."

He blinked, surprised by her words. "But you love your townhome."

And she sighed. "That's just it – you think of it as my townhome." She wrapped both her hands around his, lifted it to her chest, pulling him closer. "How long did it take you to think of _Voyager _as our ship?"

He pursed his lips, started to answer.

"The truth," she pressed.

"Kathryn!" He raised his eyebrows in feigned indignation. "I always tell you the truth."

"Sometimes you only tell me the truth I want to hear."

"Sometimes you're easier to live with when I do," he grinned, dimples creasing his cheeks. "But this time I will give you the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"All right. How long?"

"About two years. Right around the time we got her back from Cullah. Something about the Kazon taking _our_ ship just didn't sit well with me."

Kathryn smiled at his words. "Me neither." He felt her squeeze his hand. "But I don't want it to take you two years and a possible invasion by the Kazon to feel like my townhome is _our_ townhome."

He laughed. "Kathryn, I don't think we have to worry about the Kazon."

"You know what I mean."

And he nodded. "So… you want to go house hunting?"

"When we get back from Dorvan," she clarified.

"Before or after the wedding?"

"Before," she answered quickly.

He sighed, and brushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear. "You Janeway women are in a rush, aren't you?"

And before she could answer, he leaned in and kissed her, his lips soft on hers.

"Katie Janeway?"

The voice interrupted them and Kathryn pulled away, gasping, touching her fingers to her lips, the tops of her cheeks growing red when she remembered what they were doing and where they were – kissing on a public sidewalk in the middle of a busy shopping area on a Sunday afternoon in her hometown.

She looked past the silly grin on Chakotay's face to the man at the shop door who had just spoken her name.

"Will Barnett!" she exclaimed.

"I thought that was you," he laughed, "although it's sometimes hard to distinguish one person from another when she's kissing someone." There was a definite teasing tone to his voice.

"Will!" She reached out and hugged him. "You haven't changed a bit."

"And neither have you," he teased, pulling back to evade the playful slap she aimed at his shoulder.

"Chakotay," she looked back at him, "I want you to meet one of my best friends from high school. Will Barnett, this is my…" And she hesitated for just a moment, the words "first officer" almost on her lips, but then she continued, "my fiancé, Chakotay."

Will reached out and shook his hand. "Nice to meet you, Chakotay." He grinned. "We always wondered who would be able to pull Katie away from her science books."

He smiled back at the man. "Oh, I just got her to say yes to marrying me – the science books are still part of the bargain."

Kathryn shook her head at the two of them, and then looked at the storefront, read the name on the sign. "Your shop?"

And Will nodded, motioning toward the door. "For fifteen years. Please, come in, look around – pick out a wedding present!" He laughed and led the way inside, Kathryn and Chakotay following close behind.

The shop was filled from front to back and floor to ceiling with antiques – chairs, tables, dressers, cabinets, secretaries, sideboards, beds, benches, lamps - a hodgepodge of styles and time periods, English country house to Indiana country.

Chakotay reached out and ran a hand over a long farmhouse tabletop, the light oak grain scarred and aged from use, but beautiful nonetheless. His gaze was almost reverent, and Kathryn smiled when Will noticed.

"I see we have a craftsman in our midst," he observed.

And Chakotay looked up, shook his head. "Oh, no, I just… dabble at woodwork."

"Don't let him fool you," Kathryn said, a look of pride stealing into her eyes. "He's very good at furniture building. Including bathtubs."

"Bathtubs?" Will questioned.

"Don't ask," he sighed, smiling over at Kathryn. "It was a long time ago."

But she continued. "He's made chairs and tables. And just recently, he made a cradle for some friends of ours."

Chakotay shrugged. "All new pieces. They don't have the history like these do." His hand still rested on the tabletop as his eyes scanned the room.

"Well, even antiques were new once," Will noted.

And Chakotay nodded. "True. I sometimes wonder if it's the craftsman or time that truly makes a piece beautiful."

Will smiled. "I've thought that myself. It's got to be a combination."

And Kathryn chuckled, patting Chakotay on his shoulder. "If you'll excuse me, I'll leave you with your new best friend and look around some more."

"And miss out on our discussion of what makes an antique truly great?" Will teased.

"I'll make sure Chakotay gives me the highlights." And she left them to their conversation, heading toward the back of the building.

Chakotay watched her go, then glanced over at Will, saw that he was watching him watch her.

"So, how long have you been engaged?"

Chakotay grinned. "Two days."

"Congratulations!"

"Thanks."

Will smiled at Kathryn's retreating form. "At the risk of sounding like a typical member of the male population, I have to tell you that Katie Janeway is quite a catch." He looked back at Chakotay. "You must also be a damned good fisherman!"

~vVv~


	67. Chapter 67

**Author's Note:** Thanks for reading and reviewing!

"So… my therapist says I'll be running in a few months," Chakotay said, concluding his short summary of the past three weeks, his attention focused on the man seated across from him. When it became apparent that Kathryn's "looking around" was going to be a full scale antique hunt, both men had sat down in chairs beside the farmhouse table.

"You don't sound convinced of that," Will ventured, sensing Chakotay's uncertainty.

And he sighed, absently running his hand over his left thigh. "I still can't manage without the cane."

"But it sounds like you've come a long way already," Will noted with an encouraging smile. "Sometimes, when you're too close to a situation, it's difficult to see the big picture." He looked past Chakotay's shoulder, caught sight of Kathryn comparing lamps. "And speaking of the big picture, if you don't mind me asking, how long have you and Kathryn been together? As a couple?"

Chakotay hesitated with his response, glanced over his shoulder, smiled as he saw Kathryn lift one lamp, study it carefully, set it down and then pick up another. He returned his gaze to Will, shook his head. "I don't mind you asking, but… it's not an easy question to answer." He thought for a moment. "Officially – three weeks." He saw Will's eyebrows arch slightly. "Maybe my stroke's only silver lining."

And Will nodded in understanding. "Serious illness or injury is often the catalyst to admitting what might have gone unsaid. And then we find ourselves changing direction in mid-stream, marveling at the unexpected path the universe unfolds at our feet." He leaned back in his chair. "I was a corporate lawyer in Chicago for almost ten years before I decided I wanted to come back to my hometown and start my own business. Then I married Patty, had two kids – not as adventurous and dangerous as yours and Kathryn's path through the Delta Quadrant, but… it's a good life. We're very happy here."

Chakotay smiled. "Two kids?"

"Drew's ten and Ace is eight."

His smile broadened. "Ace?"

And Will shrugged. "Short for Aceland, Patty's maiden name."

"With a name like Ace, I sure hope he wants to be a pilot."

"Actually, he does. At least this week. I think he's got every Starfleet ship of the line hanging from his bedroom ceiling." Will glanced toward the back of the showroom again, taking in both Kathryn and Chakotay. "He is going to be so jealous when I tell him that the two of you stopped by the shop." He watched as Kathryn came closer, weaving her way back through the tables and chairs. "He and Drew were mesmerized by _Voyager_'s return. They watched all the newsvids – every interview." Kathryn stopped behind Chakotay, draping an arm around his shoulder. Will smiled up at her. "You and Chakotay are definitely heroes to them."

Kathryn sighed. "That's not a pedestal I'm comfortable with, but I guess I can understand." She squeezed Chakotay's shoulder. "Even I'm a bit impressed when I think about all we went through to get back home."

"The boys are fascinated with all things Starfleet – most kids are."

"I'd love to meet them, and see Patty. I can't remember the last time I saw her." Kathryn's forehead creased in thought for a few moments. "Must have been one of those high school reunions – but it's been at least ten years."

"At least," Will nodded in agreement.

And then Kathryn's eyes lit up. "I have an idea. Why don't you join us for supper tonight? Chakotay and I were going to meet Mom, and Phoebe, and Jeff, and the kids at Manzanita's at five-thirty. You could call Patty, bring the boys." She paused. "I know it's short notice, but Mom would love to see you, and you remember Phoebe and Jeff."

Will laughed. "Oh, I see Phoebe and Jeff at every school function. Ellie and Ace are in the same class."

A broad smile flashed across her features. "The kids know each other – perfect. They can keep themselves entertained while we catch up."

"Oh, once they meet the Captain and Commander of _Voyager_, I think you'll be doing the entertaining!"

"That'll be fine," Kathryn assured, "Chakotay tells wonderful stories." Then she turned, and looked back into the shop. "Now… I've found about a dozen items that I want to purchase."

Chakotay snorted, a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh, then he gasped, "A dozen?"

"Give or take…" She glanced back at Will. "There are some I'm not sure about."

He got up from his chair. "Let's go take a look at them."

Kathryn reached back and grabbed Chakotay's hand. "You come, too. They're going to be in our new house."

Chakotay took his cane and pushed himself up from the table. "So I get veto power?" He grinned at her.

And she frowned slightly. "Well, no, but… you get an opinion."

"I'd take it," Will called back. "That's more than I get with my wife."

Chakotay smiled, wrapped an arm around Kathryn. "That's usually more than I got with my captain."

"Oh, it is not!" She played along with him. "You always got an opinion. I may not have listened – but you always got one."

And Chakotay laughed. "True. Sometimes we even agreed."

~vVv~

And they did this time, too. Although Chakotay did convince her to narrow her choices from twelve to seven: a bed, two chairs, three lamps, and the farmhouse table.

They stood at the counter, reviewing the invoice. When Will stepped into his office, Chakotay leaned closer to Kathryn. "How are we paying for this? We don't have a joint account yet."

"We'll put it on my account and you can settle up later," she decided. "Besides, with all the replicator rations you've given me over the years, we might already be even."

He smiled at the memory – all those times when a cup of coffee was only a ration away, and Kathryn was tapped out. "You might even owe me," he chuckled, then glanced toward the front of the showroom. "Are you sure about the table? It's awfully large. I think it'll seat ten, maybe even twelve."

"We'll just have to find a very large house." Kathryn scrolled through the padd, examining the invoice. "Especially since Will's not charging us for it."

"That's your wedding present," he announced, coming out of the office, having heard her last words.

She looked up at him. "Oh, no, Will, that's too much."

Chakotay shook his head. "Kathryn's right. We can't accept such a generous present."

"Let's make it a trade then." He looked over at Chakotay. "A farmhouse table for a hand-carved cradle – or maybe a bathtub."

And Kathryn laughed as Will and Chakotay shook hands, sealing the deal.

~vVv~


	68. Chapter 68

"Definitely daddy material," Phoebe said quietly, leaning in toward her sister, her eyes focused on the end of the table.

The men – Chakotay, Jeff, Will, and the boys – were seated together. "To give them some time away from us women!" Gretchen had laughed an hour earlier as she'd orchestrated the seating arrangements. Now, Cooper was perched on his new uncle's lap, being ever mindful of his brace, although Chakotay had assured him that he needn't worry. "It's only for support," he'd said softly as the boy had climbed carefully onto his right knee. "It doesn't hurt."

Phoebe, along with Kathryn, had watched the exchange between them, how Chakotay had rested his hand on the boy's back, spoken clearly and gently to him, making sure he was comfortable and at ease; and it was evident that he was truly pleased and flattered by Cooper's attention and desire to be near him.

"Oh, I agree," Patty said just as quietly from the other side. "I hope children are in your plans."

And Kathryn sighed and rolled her eyes, first glaring at her sister and then at her old friend, then to the next seat where her mother was sitting.

Gretchen shook her head. "Don't look at me," she smiled. "I agree with them."

Ellie, who had defected to the men's side where the stories were more interesting, sat on her father's lap, but, as the stories unfolded, she leaned closer against Chakotay's arm, rested her chin on his shoulder.

Phoebe laughed softly. "Another Janeway woman drawn in by those broad shoulders."

"They are broad," Patty agreed, cutting her eyes in Kathryn's direction, a smirk on her face.

"Stop it – both of you," Kathryn hissed, then ended up laughing herself, perhaps a bit too loudly, for Chakotay turned away from his rapt audience and stared down the table at them.

"Did I say something funny?"

"No," Kathryn assured, attempting to control her laughter, even as Phoebe and Patty started giggling. "Continue with your story. I believe you were telling the children about Neelix."

"And how he put leola root in everything," Ace piped up, a disgusted look on his face. "It sounds terrible."

Kathryn smiled at Patty and Will's youngest. "It's definitely an acquired taste."

"Well, I'm glad I don't have to acquire it," he sighed.

"Listen to Commander Chakotay," Patty instructed. "Maybe you'll learn to appreciate your mother's cooking more."

"Aww, Mom, you're a good cook," Drew said. "You just make too many vegetables."

"Tell them about Jibelian fudge cake," Kathryn suggested.

"Ah, yes, Jibelian fudge cake, covered with icing made from pureed I'maki nuts," Chakotay agreed, and launched into a detailed description of the Talaxian delicacy.

Patty shook her head. "My boys would gladly live on a diet of pizza and popcorn if I let them."

"Ellie and Cooper just need Mom's macaroni and cheese," Phoebe added, with an appreciative nod toward her mother.

"I guess having to conserve rations for seven years was difficult," Patty said, looking at Kathryn with a consoling expression.

But she smiled and shrugged off the concern. "It wasn't as bad as it sounds. Leola root did get a little old, but some of Neelix's recipes were pretty good. I've programmed a few of them into my replicator at home."

"Speaking of home," Gretchen spoke up, "when did you decide to buy a new house?" She eyed her daughter carefully.

"This afternoon," Kathryn answered firmly, knowing her mother was about to question her decision.

"Wise choice," Gretchen said instead, smiling over at Phoebe and Patty. "They'll need extra room for the nursery."

"We're not even married yet," she groaned.

"Have you chosen a date?" Patty asked.

"We haven't even told Chakotay's family. We're leaving for Dorvan V on Tuesday. I guess a date will depend on their travel arrangements. I know Chakotay will want them to be here."

"So what about a location?" Patty continued. "Bloomington?"

Kathryn glanced over at Gretchen. "Maybe," she answered, gauging her reaction, but seeing very little emotion on her mother's face. "Or we might marry in San Francisco – most of our friends and former crew are there."

"We have transporter stations here in Bloomington," Phoebe reminded her. "It's not like we're in the Delta Quadrant."

Kathryn sighed. "I know. It just might be easier in San Francisco." She shrugged. "You know – neutral ground since Dorvan's definitely too far away."

Patty nodded. "Will and I were lucky since we both grew up here. We married on campus at Beck Chapel."

"Oh, that's such a lovely old building," Kathryn smiled.

"A possibility," Phoebe suggested. "And there's the University Club – they've got a great banquet hall."

"Let her be," Gretchen said softly. "She and Chakotay can make up their own minds."

"Thanks." And she gave her mother an appreciative smile.

"You're welcome, Katie. Besides, I'm sure you'll decide before the first child gets here."

"Mom!"

~vVv~


End file.
